


What Was and What Should Be

by Reb_Yell



Series: How Everything Still Turns to Gold [1]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Gen, Not Dawson friendly, Otis will never die in my world, season 8 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 86,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reb_Yell/pseuds/Reb_Yell
Summary: How does she end up with the ex-husband of her ex-best friend? She thinks maybe it's like math, where two negatives make a positive, like it's ex-husband and ex-best friend, she can totally not be weird about dating him. Maybe it's just that she can't seem to date away from the Fire Department, and he has a thing for people in the medical profession. Maybe it's just that the person you know you can lean on through the toughest times naturally becomes the first person you want with you all the time.
Relationships: Matthew Casey & Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: How Everything Still Turns to Gold [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699705
Comments: 140
Kudos: 424





	1. She's Drunk and Honest

**Author's Note:**

> My first "published" work in a very long time, and the first in this fandom. I will finish the story, but that doesn't mean you'll get the ending you want. Or that I want. Stories can be fickle like that.

Sylvie tried to find something to say that was light and encouraging. She actually appreciated that she was now one of the people Casey leaned on the most at 51 – he didn’t really have anyone outside the house, and he’d admitted that with Kidd having moved in to Severide’s place, he felt awkward talking to Severide about much, like he was horning in on their couple time. So he was going out more, trying to ‘move on’ apparently while also staying out of their way, working long hours on construction projects so he was only really sleeping there, but Sylvie really wanted to be encouraging his pursuit of happiness, not be a jealous meanie, who thought he was hot, and kind, and sweet, and hot – how had she not noticed how handsome he was when he was married? She’d been so convinced that he was so lucky to have Gabby, but damn, Gabby had been lucky to have him, too. So Matt was talking to her now, not Severide. This time, it had been an insensitive bitch (Sylvie’s thoughts, not his) who had basically cut him off at the knees when he mentioned he had a roommate. They’d been going out three weeks (Casey’s attempts at being discrete were ruined by the perpetual gossip queens at 51, so this was not news), and the woman had wanted to go back to his, and he’d gotten to the fact he was living with a friend (he had not, he said, gotten to the whole ‘I lost everything I owned in a fire and insurance is insisting that the court case be finished before officially determining _I_ wasn’t the arsonist’). Apparently, he’d passed along, having a roommate at 37 made him a ‘loser’ who was ‘immature, financially unstable, or worse, both’ and that he’d never find a normal woman who’d date a guy nearing 40 who didn’t at least have his shit together enough to live on his own. She could imagine Matt, sweet, solemn, genuinely-cares-about-what-you’re-saying, and much more sensitive than most people knew Matt Casey, listening to a woman he liked call him a loser and then getting stuck with the dinner-and-drinks bill, and here he was, of course, blaming himself, believing this woman (though he didn’t say as much, it was pretty obvious, and she was drunk, so it must be really obvious) and it made her mad. Very mad. He was such a decent guy, and that face, and he was nicely built, and he was not a loser at all – even when she was sober she totally did not think he was a loser at all. He was kind and warm and very responsible and very mature and very hot. Okay, she was drunk, and focusing on the ‘attractive’ thing a little too much.

“You don’t have to disagree with her, you know.” Matt managed a sad attempt at a half-smile. Her confusion must have shown on her face. “You look like you’re trying to come up with a nice, supportive, Sylvie Brett way of saying she’s right – of all the fish in the sea, I’m the worst catch, so to speak.”

“Uhm, no, not what was I thinking at all. Trust me, you have to scrape the bottom of a _really_ deep barrel to be the worst catch in the sea.” She meant that, truly, there were a surprisingly high number of shitty people in the dating pool. Like apparently this Miranda woman he’d been seeing. Seeing the look on his face, she kept going, “Not that you’re a bad catch at all, Matt Casey. You’re kind, and sweet, and very handsome, and you’ve got a good job – two good jobs really, so bonus for that – and you’re a great friend, and you have the most amazing eyes, has anyone told you that?”  
“You’ve been trying to keep up with Foster again, haven’t you?” He asked, a more genuine smile spreading across his face.

“No, well, yes, but she bought and she _kept_ buying, before she left to go to some _thing_ for a friend or with a friend or about a friend.” Sylvie explained. “But me being drunk is not why you have beautiful eyes. You just do. Me being drunk might be why I’m saying it though. But it’s better than saying the other thing I was thinking, so it’s okay, because the other thing I was thinking is you’re hot. And that would be awkward. Maybe. If you’re not okay with that. Not with being hot, I guess you’re okay with that, you’ve probably been hot like your entire life, but with me saying it.”

“Were you drinking beer all night?” He gestured to what was in her hand. She didn’t follow his jump in topic, but oh well.

“What? This?” She glanced at the bottle. “No. After round three of tequila, I told Foster I had to switch to beer.”  
“Three? And how many beers?”  
“This is my third, but I’ve had like…two sips out of it. You’re not going to buy me a drink, are you?”  
“Well, I was going to offer, since you’ve listened to me complain, but I think now I’m going to offer to take you home instead.”  
“See?! Nice, sweet, kind Matt Casey – definitely a good catch.”

“Yeah, nice guys, what every woman wants apparently.” Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes a little. “Stay here, I’ll clear my tab with Herrmann.”  
“I’ll be here.” She assured, thankful a moment later that the bar was kind of loud as “enjoying the view of your butt,” slipped out because she was actually that shallow tonight, he had a nice butt. His turnout gear of course did not show it off, but sometimes his duty pants did. Tonight, his dress pants did. He’d gotten dressed up, they must’ve gone somewhere nice, and then he got dumped, and told he was a loser. He probably paid the bill, too, he was the type to always pay for a girl, definitely. Typical Casey. Treated like crap and paid for the privilege of it. He was back a minute later, she almost laughed because he’d be the type to never realize but he always got served like first in the whole place because that was just Herrmann and Otis being respectful of their boss like that – everyone in the house adored Casey, even when he was making them nuts with drills and stuff.

“What’re you grinning about?” He asked with a smile.

“You.”  
“Laughing at me, huh? Can’t blame you.” His smile was fake now, though.

“Sort of, but not like you think. Her loss, Matt. I mean that. Everyone here loves you and if she doesn’t, well, that’s just poop for her.”  
“Poop for her?” Matt laughed lightly. “You’re in a bar, you can swear.”  
“I don’t like to swear much.” She shrugged. “Except, well, you don’t need to know that.”  
“You ready to head home?”  
“With you?”  
“Well, I’m driving, but no, I’ll take you back to yours. Otis said Cruz should be back from his date with Chloe by now.”  
“What if he brought Chloe back to ours? He thinks Otis and I are both out for the evening.”  
“I’m sure they’ll be in the bedroom in that case.” He reassured as he ushered her out of the bar.

“Hey, Case, ‘hawks tickets next Wednesday, you in?” Severide asked as they passed his table. Kidd had a weird look on her face, Sylvie couldn’t place it, but it was weird. “Section 110, 2nd row.”  
“Hell yes I’m in. I’m gonna take Brett home – she tried to keep up with Foster again – catch you back home.”  
“Sure, later.”  
  


“You know, I think Kidd doesn’t like you living there. Or maybe she was just jealous Severide didn’t take _her_ to the Blackhawks.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about getting a new place. I’ll have to rent for a while.”

“Ooh, let me help again this time! I love real estate. You should totally buy in this market, you know, you could make money on a fixer, you can do the work yourself and everything.”  
“I would, if I get the insurance settled. Then again, I have nothing to go in a house. Or an apartment. I don’t even own a mattress, or an entire wardrobe that doesn’t say Chicago Fire Department on it.”  
“Oh, I forgot for a second. Sorry. How long on that?”  
“Lawyers say a month or so until the case is wrapped up, so maybe six weeks.”  
“It’s been almost a year – since last December. Good thing you’ve got Severide.”  
“He’s a good friend, letting me crash in the guest room for 10 months.” Matt agreed. She looked at him, he was so earnest and kind and hot. She was stuck on the ‘hot’ tonight. Then something occurred to her.

“I just realized you sleep in the bed Kidd used to sleep in. The same sheets even. Washed but still. That’s kinda weird. I bet they had sex in her room sometimes. So like, you sleep in their bed, sort of.”  
“Now I’m going to be thinking about that tonight. Thanks for that.” Matt chuckled a little. They pulled up near her building. He didn’t have a parking spot, so he’d had to take what was sort of near her building. They _had_ official visitor spots, she remembered. Too few, but it was a weeknight, so there were some left probably.

“You can go in the parking. You can have a visitor spots. I’ll give you the code. But shhh, we’re not supposed to give it out, we’re supposed to buzz you in with your phones, but I don’t know if I can type the code right right now.”  
“Alright, what’s the code I have to enter?” He asked, but he hadn’t moved the truck.

“Uhm, you have to be at the gate.”  
“I know that, I’m just not getting stuck up there and then you can’t remember it.”  
“Oh. I remember it! I’m not that drunk.”  
“You’re pretty drunk. It’s adorable but also a little concerning.”  
“It’s Foster’s fault. She drinks a lot. Not like at work, Captain Casey, sir. Just, like, out, she drinks more than I ever have.”  
“I can tell. The code?”  
“Oh, yeah. 03-04-18-37. Then my apartment number. Do you know that?”

“Yeah. Between you, Otis, and Cruz, it’s on a lot of paperwork I see.”  
“There’s an elevator. Thankfully. I’m not sure I like stairs right now.”  
“Probably not.” Casey agreed, as he punched in the code and the gate rolled back. He found the visitors spots easily up on the almost top bit of the parking deck. How did he know that? She got distracted, or something, because he was holding open his truck door, looking at her expectantly.

“What?”  
“You’re not sleeping in my truck, Sylvie. Let’s go inside.”  
“Your truck is comfy. Not new, but reliable, comfy, lived in. Like you.”  
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment. Probably true, though.” Matt shook his head.

“I mean, it smells like you. Not that you’re lived in or comfy. You might be comfy. I’ve never sat on you.” She admitted as she slipped from the truck and headed towards the door into the residential part of the building. She was not sure the parking had always been this unlevel. She continued, “it smells like you. Like, good things. Like wood and sawdust and that guy smell, just whatever it is, that Matt smell that is just you, not anything else.”  
“I have a smell?” He caught her as she threatened to fall into him, the floor was really unlevel tonight and right in front of the elevator too, that was silly, who built it like that?  
“mm-hmm. It’s nice. See you smell like it right now. Sort of. You wore cologne though. It covers it up. It’s nice cologne, but I miss you smell.”  
“I did have a date tonight. I didn’t think ‘me smell’ was what I should go with.”  
“When we date, don’t bother with cologne. You smell sexier with the sawdust and you smell.”  
“Are we dating?” Matt asked with a chuckle.  
“I could stop being jealous of stupid mean women who say you’re a ‘loser’ then. And you wouldn’t get stuck paying for dinner with a woman who would _call_ you a ‘loser’. Which isn’t good. Plus, then it wouldn’t be weird that I was checking out your butt tonight when you paid your tab.”  
“You were?” He wasn’t chuckling now, as they got out of the elevator on her floor. It wasn’t even many floors down from where they had been, but she was sure the stairs would be even more unlevel than the parking.  
“Mm-hmm. You have a cute butt in those pants. Also, you have the bluest eyes. I love your eyes. Did I say that already tonight? I’m drunk. I think I’m drunker than I think. Thought. I’m drunker enough to just decide we’re dating, so you can stop being with mean women and I can stop dealing with guys who don’t want what I want or whatever it is that means I keep ending up with guys who don’t understand me or the job. And since we’re dating, I can look at your ass and it’s not weird. And your eyes. And your…you.”  
“Is Cruz actually home? I could knock. I think you’re a little drunk to be left home by yourself.”  
“You can sleep over! If we’re dating now, it’s fine if you sleep over. Chloe sleeps over sometimes. And Lily too.”  
“That would probably not be a good idea.”  
“But if you leave, hey, what’re you doing, that’s my purse.” He just reached out and took her purse off her shoulder and was opening it. Rude.  
“And we’ve been standing at your door for a full minute. You have a key?”  
“Oh, yeah, it’s in there. Sorry.”  
“Let’s get you inside.” He said, as he found the key and opened the door. He guided her inside, even though she lived there. “Cruz!” He called out, but there was no answer. She figured that meant he was at Chloe’s, or maybe they were still out, it wasn’t that late, not really, she was just drunk kinda early. Because of Foster. Who was a bad influence. Whose bad influence led her to be here, being ushered around her own apartment by Matt Casey. Who was also her boss. Sort of. Not really. So it wasn’t a conflict really because he couldn’t give orders to ambo. Except sometimes. And he processed all their personnel paperwork and stuff. So some authority. But that didn’t mean he was her boss and she shouldn’t be attracted to him because of rules. He smelled good. Sexy. And he was probably really well built. She’d never actually seen him shirtless. But he had to be. She wanted to know. “Let’s get you some water.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. Even his voice was sexy.  
“I’m not thirsty. I had lots of liquid, too much, I mean.” She was pretty sure if she drank anything more, she’d start to feel sick. Plus, she kind of didn’t want to sober up just yet. She was enjoying the feelings of being close to him.  
“You’re drunk.” Matt reminded. “water will help.”  
“But if I get less drunker, I won’t have the guts to do this.” She said, then practically fell into him to kiss him. Maybe it was his body heat, or his smell, or his Matt Casey-ness, but she was drunk enough to go with it and worry about whatever later, so she kissed him, good and long and hard. She kissed him and enjoyed that he kissed back and he was good at it. He kissed like he did everything else, like it was the only thing on the planet going on right at that moment, and damn it, she wanted him, wanted to throw him on the nearest surface and just kiss him until they both passed out from lack of oxygen. She always got wet easily when she was drunk, and she could feel herself getting really turned on, and she pushed impossibly closer to him, her hands roaming, trying to get their fill of him, all the things forbidden to her before right now, and speaking of forbidden, she fumbled at his fly, damn dress pants were harder to get than jeans, and she mostly ended up groping him through his pants, but just for a second because then his hands grabbed her wrists, firmly but not too hard, and he was pushing her away from him, which caused her to whine – she didn’t mean to, but she didn’t want to be away from his heat and his smell and his Matt Casey-ness.

“Not tonight, Sylvie.”  
“Why not?”  
“You’re too drunk to make this sort of decision.” He paused. “And I’m not the kind of guy who takes one woman to dinner and sleeps with a different woman on the same night.”  
“She should’ve hit that then, her loss.”  
“If you really want this,” Matt sighed, but smiled at her, “you’ll still want it when you’re sober. I respect you way too much, and value our friendship too much, to not wait for _sober_ enthusiastic consent. I mean, I always do, would, but especially with you.”  
“Why are you such a good guy?” She asked, half in complaint, half out of just sheer affection for this sweet, solemn, lovely man. Who was also really hot, hence her half complaint. “But I think I love it about you, you know? You’re good. Not nice, I mean, you’re nice, but you’re not nice like you have good manners and act the part, you’re good. Down to your bones. Do you know that? You’re good down to your bones, Matt Casey, and that’s why I love you. Well, that and you’re hot with beautiful eyes.”  
“Let’s get you to bed. With some water. I’ll text Cruz, see where he’s at.”  
“Don’t bother him, he’s with Chloe. Otis will be home at like 3. I’ll be fine. Or you could stay.”  
“On the sofa.” He gave her a sharp look, as her hands wandered down his body again. She couldn’t help it. He should be touched. She was drunk, but she also noticed that while his mouth said ‘no’ his body was saying ‘yes’ – he liked being touched.

“With me.” She shook her head. “Not like…I respect your ‘no’. Just in the bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  
“You don’t trust me?”  
“Drunk? Not entirely.” He chuckled.  
“So you’re good and you’re smart.” She laughed. “But I promise. No roving hands tonight. But I want a cuddle. Just a cuddle. I miss the cuddling.”  
“Yeah, it’s hard to go back to sleeping alone. Come on, this is you, right?” He gestured to the bedroom he’d led them down the hall to. She nodded.

“That’s me. I’m gonna brush my teeth first. Be right back.”

“I’ll get that glass of water.”  
She came into the bedroom, unsurprised to find he’d already turned back the covers. He was the type to do that. He was also the type, it turned out, to turn around when she started changing clothes. Which she’d probably appreciate when she was sober, but tonight it was just silly and adorable. She’d let him see the whole show anyway. She was in her PJs, nearly fell into bed, then looked up at him.

“Your turn. Oh, I could get something from Cruz’s room for you-“  
“It’s fine. I’ve slept worse.” He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes from what she could tell and guess. She couldn’t see it, the angle was bad and his shoulders were between her eyes and his actions and oooh, he had nice shoulders. He took off the outer, nice, shirt he was wearing, too.

“Your pants.” She prompted, then explained at his look. “I mean, they’re nice, don’t wrinkle them. I promise to keep my hands to myself, you can take your pants off. Though I’ll be tempted. It felt nice, the like second I touched it.”  
“Thanks, I think.” He chuckled again. “You know, this sort of thing is easier when you girls crash at a guy’s – I can just give you some boxers and an old t-shirt.”  
“I could give you my underwear.” She laughed. “I don’t think it’d suit you.”

“Or _fit_.” He grinned.

“Take your pants off. Unless you’re not wearing underwear. That might be too much temptation.”

“You’ve known me for almost five years.” He laughed, shaking his head. He also stood to remove his pants, and she unashamedly checked out his ass. “If you think not wearing underwear is an option, you don’t know me nearly well enough for us to do this. Or even think about going where all that kissing out in the living room was going.”  
“You’ve never not worn underwear?”  
“You have? I mean, gone out with no underwear?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’. “It was kind of a dare. But it felt kind of…naughty and I kind of liked it.”  
“Damn it.” He blushed a little, but she didn’t know why.

“I was just joking.” She reassured, not wanting him to think she didn’t know him very well. “I mean, I totally did that, but I mean I knew you’d be wearing underwear. I even knew it would be black boxer briefs, plain black, always, and always Jockey. Dawson joked about how predictable you are.” She realized he looked taken aback or something and he was definitely blushing more now. “I just mean I know who you are, Matt Casey.”  
“Yeah.”  
“And you are comfy and warm and you smell good and I’m drunk enough to ask so just get over here for cuddles.”  
“Drink some of that water. I’ll stay until Otis or Cruz gets home, okay?”


	2. Blame Foster

She woke up hung over and alone. She wasn’t surprised by either condition. There was a note from Matt, though, on the stationery her grandmother had given her. She read it quickly, it just said he’d left around 4 am, to avoid her roommates and hopefully any awkward insinuations from Severide and Kidd. He hoped she felt okay and if she was still interested in that ‘when we date’ idea from last night, she should let him know next shift. God, had she really tried to… yes, yes she had. Thank God he had the self-control she apparently did not last night. He was interested though, or at least, he’d felt interested. And his note said he was, right? He’d also felt nicely sized – not like a circus freak, thank God, but nicely hung. She felt a little guilty thinking about that even just in her own head, but…still, nice. His note said next shift though, so she didn’t want to seem weird by texting him right now. She might’ve needed to be drunk to put the idea out there, but she wanted Matt Casey, and Gabby Dawson be damned – Dawson had abandoned both of them, and if she didn’t want Matt, well, other women, smart women, they did. Plus, and she’d never, ever, tell Matt this, she had felt awful when he talked about his date last night – rejection always stung, and something in his words or face or bearing, she was too drunk last night to quite put a finger on it, had said he believed what he’d been told: no one would want him, not the him who wasn’t just a hot guy in a bar random hook-up. But she couldn’t date him out of pity. She wouldn’t. It was just that knowing he was dating other women made her jealous. Seeing him date other women who didn’t appreciate him made her sad and mad both. She really did like him. She’d always liked him, but now she was sure she _liked_ him. She’d hoped it would go away, then just wanted to wait for something, she didn’t even know what. But why wait? Dawson was gone, she was interested, and Matt was interested, why not? She didn’t have many regrets actually, except that she’d come on so strong. God, she hoped he didn’t think she was a slut or something. Not that Casey was likely to call anyone a slut, he really wasn’t judgmental like that (he probably couldn’t be, he’d been friends with Severide for like two decades).

She wandered out to the living room, unsurprised to find Otis was up before her, already doing some thing or other on the computer. He looked up and smiled at her.

“You got a ride last night, right?” He asked.

“Casey brought me home.”  
“Thought he had a date last night.” Otis remarked lightly.

“He did. It didn’t go well. Dropped by Molly’s after, seemed to be looking for company. Foster got me drunk and left, so he brought me here, and we went to bed. Joe still at Chloe’s?”  
“I guess so. You know, I don’t want to overstep or anything, but…is there something between you and Casey? I mean, something more than friends?”  
“Because he brought me home when I was drunk?”  
“That. And he talks more to you than he does to anyone else. Which is not often, because Casey is practically mute some days. But still, you guys spend a lot of time together. And he’s gotten really protective.”  
“So have you and Joe.” She pointed out.

“Well, we’re your roommates. That’s our job.” Otis replied.

“And he’s Casey – he’s protective of everyone in the house. The girls especially.” She sighed, thinking on Kidd’s occasional and Foster’s more regular frustration with Casey’s tendency to hover over them on the more dangerous calls. He wasn’t sexist, they all knew that, he was just…a worrier. He knew the physical capabilities of every person in the house, knew what he could physically ask them to do, and his knowledge of the differential in strength for the women seemed to make him just a little more nervous about them.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t look at Kidd and Foster like he looks at you.”  
“Maybe…maybe there’s something.” She admitted. “I was drunk last night and he brought me home-“  
“He brought you back here, drunk, and you said ‘we went to bed’-”  
“Don’t, Otis.” She bit out, not liking the implication in his tone, like Matt would take advantage of her. Otis had known Casey for a decade, he had to know him better than that by now. “I was drunk, _I_ made a move on him, and _he_ said we’d talk about it when I was sober, and I basically passed out. He left. He was exactly the sort of gentleman that anyone who knows him would’ve expected.”  
“But you’re interested in him?” Otis’ nose wrinkled. “The two of you are going to be dating? Does he just have a thing for paramedics, or no, people in medicine, he was engaged to a doctor before.”  
“That’s none of your business. Matt and I still have to talk about things, when we’re both sober.”  
“Matt? You call him Matt now?”  
“Sometimes. It’s weird to call him ‘Casey’ and think of him as…you know, more than a friend.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but he is your boss. He’s out of line dating a subordinate. Again. He’s also not got a great track record with relationships.”  
“Not really my boss – he’s mostly just yours, and Joe’s. I mean, and the firefighters generally.” She sighed, and asked the only question she could think to ask at this point. “Are you gonna be weird about this because you don’t like Casey or because he’s your boss, or are you gonna trust my judgment? And his?” She paused, stuck on something. “Wait, do you actually not like Casey?”  
“As a boss, he’s great.” Otis shrugged. “I don’t know about as a boyfriend. That whole mess with Dawson was all over the place, on and off so many times, and she was mad at him a lot – you must’ve heard about how often he tried to tell her what to do, didn’t support her, we all did, at least in what she implied – and he was on and off with his fiancée before, too. I don’t think on-and-off is what you deserve.”  
“I think…” She trailed off for a second, trying to put into words the suspicions that had been forming for her ever since Dawson left so suddenly, and Matt’s admission that he couldn’t have stopped her, “I think he said so little and she said so much that we all sort of assumed things about their relationship. And I think he is the one who got most hurt in that. So maybe he deserves a lot of benefits of the doubt.”  
“Just be careful. He’s a good guy, just…I don’t want you to get hurt by him. Okay?”  
“Okay.” She didn’t have the heart to admit that she was more worried she was going to hurt Matt than the other way around. She didn’t really have a great ‘track record’ with engagements herself so she couldn’t exactly judge Matt. And Gabby left him, and none of them knew what the cause of the break-up was, just that she decided to go to Puerto Rico and she decided to stay permanently and Matt stayed in Chicago. So to her way of thinking, Matt got hurt more than Gabby did in that whole mess. At least Gabby had made the decisions, Matt just got left behind.

**************************************************************

She didn’t have that many, or any, regrets about kissing the face off Matt Casey until she actually walked into the house the following shift. Not that her feelings about Matt changed, but she had to _face_ him now, and that could be awkward. She’d sort of spilled her guts, and then she’d also sort of groped him, and she hoped that she’d not just been really drunk, the kissing really had gone well, otherwise it could be weird now. Would he act differently now? He’d always acted differently with Dawson, no one could ever miss how he felt about her, even when he was annoyed or hurt or angry it was obvious. But he said hello with a warm smile, no different than usual, and went about working on some paperwork while eating breakfast, and seemed completely not awkward at all. It was a busy shift, for all the vehicles, so there wasn’t much time to talk, and she hadn’t yet figured out how she wanted to affirm for him that even sober, she had no regrets about that ‘we’re dating now’ declaration she’d made (well, _how_ she’d made it, yes, regrets, but not the idea of it). So she was happy to leave it at he was being normal. Otis kept giving them both odd looks, as if he expected some major announcement, catastrophe, or something to spontaneously occur. She didn’t realize she was being quiet in the ambo until Foster called her out on it late in the afternoon.

“What’s up with you? You’re too quiet, something happen since last shift?”  
“You happened. Sort of.” Sylvie admitted, then realized she’d have to explain. “You got me drunk at Molly’s because I can never keep up with you.”  
“You didn’t drive there, so what’s wrong with ending up drunk at a bar?” Foster paused, a smile spreading across her face. “Did you pick up a guy at Molly’s? That’s good. Girl you need to get out there more.”  
“Oh, I got out there. And now I have to figure out how to talk to him about it, which, hey, I’ve basically jumped his bones so you’d think talking wouldn’t be that hard, but he’s…he’s _Matt_ , and he’s-“  
“Wait, Matt as in Matthew Casey, _Captain_ Casey?” Foster practically shouted. “You’re stressing over the fact that you finally hooked up with Casey?”

“We didn’t ‘hook up’.” Sylvie defended. “He took me home, and I was drunk, and I may have…I kissed him, but he kissed me back, but then he said I was too drunk to make any decisions and I should let him know after next shift, this shift, if I still wanted to date him.”  
“So, do you?”  
“Of course I do.” Sylvie nearly rolled her eyes. “You and Kidd have both been practically shoving me at him for months. Then there’s Olivia at spin class. Plus, he’s Casey. He’s a great guy and it’s not like he’s not attractive.”  
“So, just tell him you’re interested.”  
“I don’t want to just…I have to figure out what I want to say. Should I just say I meant it and let him ask me out, or do I just ask him out directly? If I ask him out, where do we go?”  
“Ask him out. It’s 2019. Just take him out. Not to Molly’s.”  
“God, no. Someplace that isn’t full of every firefighter either of us knows, for sure.”  
“What’s his favorite place? Or do something he’d like, like…maybe hockey or something.”  
“I know that this band he likes is playing at the Aragon next week.”  
“Concerts are good.” Foster encouraged. “Fun, public, but shows that you like some of the same stuff – though you guys have worked together for like five years, you already know each other.”  
“Exactly.” That was part of her problem with figuring out what to do. “I’ve already gotten to know him, and he knows me, so most of the point of dating is already out of the way. I even know what kind of underwear he wears.”  
“How do you know what kind of underwear the captain wears if you didn’t hook up?”  
“Well, he did end up without his pants in my bed-“  
“That is the definition of hooking up!”  
“Sleeping. But no, I know because like I said months ago, it’s complicated because I was his ex-wife’s best friend. So how do I date him now? And what if Gabby comes back, even for a visit?”  
“You can’t put your life on hold for a random what if.” Foster wrinkled her nose. “And Dawson left – you, him, everything. She had to know he wasn’t going to be a priest or whatever.”  
“Well, no, but not with me.”  
“It’s ancient history, like Kidd said. You like him. He likes you. Jump his bones already.”  
“We can’t just skip to sex.”  
“Why not?” Foster asked. “You skipped the getting-to-know-you parts of dating, now it’s time to see if the sex is good. You’re good friends, if you add in good sex, you’re pretty much straight into a serious relationship – just sprinkle in the occasional romantic dinner date or something.”

“What if it isn’t good?”  
“The sex?”  
“Then, we’ve ruined a great friendship, and one we can’t escape because we work together.”  
“I’ve known Casey a little over a year. He doesn’t strike me as the type for the sex not being good.”  
“How can you know that?”  
“He’s totally the controlled, calm, stoic guy during the day, freak between the sheets – bet he goes like a freight train.” Foster paused. “Not that I’ve spent a lot of time imagining, just saying he’s hot and a guy that hot knows his way around sex.”

“Exactly. He could have lots of women. What if I’m not…his type.”  
“I don’t think he has a type, except a kick-ass determined woman, and you’re definitely that. Plus, I don’t think even if it’s awkward or something, he’s gonna let it ruin a friendship. He has to be used to awkward.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“He lives with Lieutenant Severide. Who is dating, now living with, Kidd, who works for Casey. Think about it. Kidd and him have to have run into each other in the kitchen or something on a lot of mornings after. If that hasn’t made things awkward, one date with you will be fine. Plus, everyone knows he likes you.”

“Fine. I’ll just…ask him out. To the concert. But if it goes horribly awkward, I’m blaming you. You got me drunk and left me to end up going home with him.” Sylvie announced, just as they pulled up to the address they had for the person in distress.

“I bring only the best things into your life.” Foster responded with a laugh.


	3. Lacking Dutch Courage

She managed to only see Casey in passing the rest of shift, which actually suited her just fine because she might have made up her mind, but she still needed to figure out what to actually say. She did not want to just repeat that whole ‘when we date’. Except he hadn’t seemed offended, had he? More amused. And willing. That was important. Still, he deserved to be _asked_ , not told. She didn’t want to ask him in the middle of the house. She also didn’t want him to think that her delay was a way of saying she wasn’t still interested. She was. She just didn’t have the same ‘Dutch courage’ at work. 8 am came too quickly. She had to figure out how to ask him. So now she was stuck watching him pack up as they all got ready to leave.

“Oh my God, Brett, just walk up to him and ask him. Or kiss him. He’ll get the point.” Foster appeared suddenly behind her right shoulder. At least she was whispering and the ambient noise of shift change meant he wouldn’t hear them.

“I can’t just kiss him in the middle of the firehouse.”  
“Yeah, because no one has ever done that.”  
“Ever done what?” Kidd asked, then followed Sylvie’s line of sight. “Stared creepily at Casey? That might actually be a new one.”  
“I’m not staring.”  
“You’re staring.” Foster disagreed with Sylvie immediately. “Not that he’s a bad thing to stare at, if that’s your type.”  
“How is he not your type?” Sylvie asked. “You’re breathing and you like guys, and he’s Matt Casey. How am I the only one of us who…ugh!”  
“Way too ‘Boy Scout’ for me.” Foster shrugged. “He’s nice looking, but he’s too nice.”  
“Hey, I’m dating his best friend.” Kidd held up her hands in defense. “All I see at this point is the guy who sleeps down the hall so we can’t have sex on the sofa.”  
“Go ask him to the concert.” Foster urged.  
“You’re asking Casey out?” Kidd asked, grinning broadly. “About time, girl. Go get him. What concert?”  
“That band he likes, Kaleo, they’re playing at the Aragon on Friday.” Sylvie explained.

“Great venue.” Kidd nudged her. “Go ask him.”  
“I’m going. In a minute.”  
“In a minute, he’s going to be headed for his truck. And since it is Saturday morning now, you should probably tell him not to make plans for Friday.”  
“I can’t just tell him.”  
“Yeah, you can.” Kidd laughed lightly. “Trust me, Casey won’t complain about it. Just as long as you end up out together, he won’t care. He’s pretty pragmatic.”  
“Fine. I’m going. But don’t watch us, that’s creepy.”  
“Call me later. I’m serious.” Foster warned, and Kidd mimed the same, but the other two women left, and Sylvie walked towards Matt. She was nervous. Which was silly. It was Matt. He had already told her that he was interested, hadn’t he? He just wanted to make sure she was sober. Which she was now. And so was he. So no problem. Except that she nearly ran smack into him as he turned away from the locker he’d just closed.

“Oh, shoot, sorry.” She apologized immediately.

“You want to talk to me about something?” Matt asked, a little teasing glint to his eye.

“You’re a jerk.” She gasped, that was not what she intended to say.

“What?” He looked genuinely lost.

“I mean, concert, uh, do you want to go to the Kaleo concert on Friday with me at the Aragon?”  
“You like Kaleo?”  
“Not as much as you do, but yeah.” She did like their music, well enough at least. She mostly liked the way he visibly liked it. He had very eclectic taste in music.

“Is this a date?” Matt asked. “I want to be clear if this is an answer to what we sort of discussed on Wednesday night.”  
“It is. If you want it to be. I mean, I’d like it to be the ‘when we date’ part now. And because I asked you, I insist on buying the concert tickets. If you accept. The date I mean.”  
“Yes, I accept – happily.” Matt grinned at her, that boyish smile that made her insides do goofy things. He leaned forward, and she could smell him, that sawdust Matt Casey smell, even if there was also a strong whiff of the house fire they’d gotten back from just before shift change. “I’d kiss you, but not at work.”

“That _would_ be unprofessional.” Sylvie smiled broadly back, relieved and excited and happy all at once. “The concert openers start at 7. You want to meet there, or?”  
“If I accept that the concert is your treat, will you accept that dinner before is on me? Let me take you out to dinner, then you can take me out to the concert.”  
“Hm.” Sylvie pretended to consider it. “I like balance in a relationship. I accept your proposal.” She stopped, shocked at that, realizing what she’d just said. “I mean, not like, a proposal, an idea, your idea, I accept your idea.”  
“It’s okay, Sylvie.” Matt reassured softly. “I’m hard to scare off or offend. Though you _are_ adorable when you get a little frantic like that.”  
“If you don’t step two steps away from me, I am going to kiss your face off again. How do you still smell good, despite the eau de housefire? It’s not natural.” She teased, well, she was half-serious. He held his hands up, and backed up exactly two steps. Not huge steps, but steps.

“No more kissing until _after_ the first date.” Matt laughed. “I’m not that kind of boy.”  
“I’ll see you next shift, then.” She nodded, but swiftly kissed his cheek. “I couldn’t resist. I’ll see you Monday.”

*******************************************************

She was a mess before Thursday’s shift. She hadn’t, it turned out, seen him Monday. The whole house had been shocked to have a relief officer show up, and all Chief could tell them was that Casey had been assigned that shift at another house. It made no sense, why not send the relief officer wherever else and keep Casey on his usual shift? She’d texted him to make sure everything was okay, when she couldn’t see him it was strangely worrying, and then he’d called to talk to her for a short bit (he sounded like he was indulging the crazy person, but doing it sweetly), but he hadn’t even been to Molly’s so she hadn’t seen him since Saturday morning. She must’ve looked anxious as she waited around the locker room. It wasn’t like him to be late. Kidd laughed at her.

“He’s _fine_ , you know. Bruised and a little scorched, but you know Casey. He was on a work site yesterday – put in 14 hours to make up for losing Tuesday.”

“Bruised and a little scorched?” She asked, surprised and concerned. “He didn’t mention…what happened?”  
“I figured he’d tell you. Happened on a call last shift – he got pinched at an accident scene or something. Kelly had to pick him up at Med, but he’s fine now.”

“That jerk. He didn’t tell me.”  
“He hates a fuss over small stuff, you know that.” Stella reminded.

“That’s not small, if he got hurt.”  
“I’m fine.” Speak of the devil, she turned a little to see him. He looked fine, except for a white bandage visible at his neck. She couldn’t help it, she stood up and practically pressed him against the locker to inspect it. “Don’t mess that up, or you’ll have to redo it.”  
“I’m a paramedic, Matt, I can redo a bandage over a burn.”  
“Yeah, but I have two minutes to change out before roll call and shift meeting, so if you ladies don’t mind.”  
“Oh, I don’t mind at all. Change out.” Kidd teased lightly.

“Get out of here.” Matt fake-growled at her, and she retreated with a laugh. Sylvie peeled back his bandage.

“This is a second degree burn.”  
“I know, it was even checked by a medical professional.” He was laughing at her. “I’m fine, Sylvie.”  
“You’re supposed to wear your turnout to every call.”  
“I did, and I’m fine. Go, before we’re both late to the meeting and people start talking.”  
“I’m going to check on that later. Keep it dry and covered. I’ll change the bandage every 8 hours.” She announced as she left the locker room.

Thankfully, the rest of shift had been busy (to keep her from just constantly fretting over him and their date) but not with any catastrophic or late in the shift calls, so they were out of there precisely on time at 8 am the next day. Casey had been pulled into the Chief’s office so was stuck in a meeting when she left, so she didn’t get the chance to confirm their plans for this evening. She decided she’d text him later. In the meantime, she had to figure out what the hell to wear. She wanted to look nice, of course, it was a first date, but she didn’t want to be over-dressed for a concert, or dinner, wherever that was going to be. Just as she was debating if asking him the location for dinner sounded needy or something, her phone pinged the receipt of a text message.

-Sorry to miss you after shift. How do you feel about Ethiopian food?- Was it weird that she now heard his texts in his voice?

-I’ve never had it. I’m up to try it.- She replied, knowing she’d be googling Ethiopian food as soon as she was done texting him.

-There’s a great place close to the Aragon. How does 5 o’clock sound? Plenty of time to see the opening acts, or catch a drink someplace in between if you’d rather.-

\- 5 is fine.-

-great, I’ll pick you up.- She sent back a thumbs-up to confirm their plans. She was googling Ethiopian food when her phone pinged again. She smiled, reading his message, but was also a little worried about him. If he was still hurt from that call on Monday’s shift, he should be resting more. –Sorry, I would’ve called instead of texting, but I’m working at El Muro today, too loud to call you. I’ll be done by 3, promise not to smell of Mexican food.-

-Remember what I said about when we date.- Sylvie sent back.

-I’ll keep it in mind.-

*******************************************************

She had settled on her favorite pair of dark-wash jeans, shoes that weren’t her cutest or sexiest, but she could wear safely to a standing room only concert, and to ramp it up a bit, a deeply-plunging purple tank top with her best and sexiest push-up bra underneath it. Her hair was back and up, and she kept her make-up sort of minimal. Casey never seemed like the sort of guy to be interested in heavy make-up. Every guy was interested in push-up bras and shirts that showed cleavage, though. She looked good. Not too aggressively good, though. She didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard. Besides, he’d seen her hundreds of times in her ambo gear, and he still liked her, so she didn’t really need to impress him that much.

“Wow, you’re clearly heading out somewhere.” Lily remarked as she came into the living room.

“She has a date.” Otis’s tone was just short of annoyed. Cruz and Chloe just looked confused.

“I do have a date.” Sylvie confirmed, trying to be patient. “I’m going to dinner and a concert.”  
“And this is a bad thing?” Lily was clearly asking Otis.

“She has a date, with _Casey_.”

“No. Seriously?” Cruz asked her, and she sighed, but nodded.

“Yes.”  
“Captain Casey? Wasn’t he married to your old partner?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, he was.” Otis confirmed.

“ _She_ left _him_.” Sylvie pointed out. “And it’s been a year and a half.”  
“He’s cute.” Chloe encouraged with a smile. “He seems really nice.”  
“Sure, he’s nice. He just can’t stop dating people in the house.”  
“One person.” Sylvie pointed out.  
“You like Casey.” Lily was clearly addressing Otis.

“He’s a great boss. He ran off his first fiancée, and then he ran off his wife, and both his mother and his sister barely speak to him. He can’t maintain a relationship with a woman at all. I’m just saying, if you account for what we know he grew up with, maybe he’s not the guy I want dating my friend.”

“Hallie died.” Joe cut in sharply.

“After he’d run her off at least three times just while I worked on 81.”  
“His first fiancée died? And his wife left him? And he had that fire last year, right?” Chloe looked sad. “Wow, he’s had a rough time.”  
“That is _completely_ unfair of you to bring up.” Sylvie decided to tackle the part of what Otis said that bothered her the most. “You know he’s nothing like his father, we all know that, and you have no right to even imply otherwise.”  
“Wait, his father?” Lily asked.  
“His mother was in prison for like twenty years,” Otis explained swiftly, “because she finally got sick of his father abusing her and she shot him in the face three times.”

“Which Matt had nothing to do with. Either what she did or what his dad did.” Sylvie reminded sharply. “That you’re bringing it up now, when you know better, is really petty and not like you. I know you don’t like this idea, but I’m dating him and I don’t need your permission. If that’s going to be a problem, I can move out.”  
“Probably right into his place.” Otis scoffed. “He usually moves quickly.”  
“Brian, I think we should just be supportive of Sylvie’s decision at this point. She likes Casey, and you normally like Casey, we all do, so I don’t see how this is a bad thing. I hope you have a great time, Sylvie.” Lily smiled genuinely.

“Yeah, just don’t let him chase you off to a foreign country, too.”  
“Puerto Rico isn’t a foreign country, Otis.” Joe pointed out with a sigh. “I agree with Lily, though – have a good time, and tell him if he’s less than a gentleman I’ll forget he’s my boss and beat him up, okay?”  
“Matt is never anything less than a gentleman.” Sylvie reminded, but she couldn’t help smiling. He really was the sweetest, kindest, and most considerate man she’d ever met.  
“That is the face of a woman truly smitten. Oooh, have fun.” Chloe hugged her quickly, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “And tell me _everything_ later, Casey’s a hottie. Don’t tell Joe I said that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do like Otis, I promise. He's just the character most likely to jump to a conclusion (except Herrmann, who doesn't even know about any of this yet) and openly express his concerns about his friend dating a relatively recently-divorced guy who clearly has some issues.


	4. A Night Out

She was waiting on the steps outside their building when Matt pulled up. He was out of the truck and texting, probably her, when he glanced up and saw her. He looked confused for a second, then smiled broadly as he walked up the sidewalk towards her. She took the moment to check him out. He was wearing jeans as well, they fit his muscular thighs nicely she noticed, and that black sweater of his that fit him so perfectly. He looked great.

“You look fantastic.” Matt smiled broadly at her.

“You clean up nicely yourself.”  
“Anxious to get going?”  
“I have to admit, I’m looking forward to my foray into Ethiopian food. I know I talk about Indiana too much, but there is just no way growing up in Fowlerton I ever thought I’d be going to an Ethiopian restaurant.” She replied, as he walked her to his truck. Of course, he held open the door for her because he was a gentleman, and then they were off, while she kept talking because that’s what she did when she was just a little nervous. She talked. “How did you know about this place? It’s quite close to the Aragon, have you gone to a lot of concerts there? I’ve never been there before.”  
“We used to catch concerts there a lot. Severide grew up in Andersonville, he had lots of friends still there when we first met.” Matt paused, then seemed to decide something. “I know the place because Hallie and I used to go there. We both liked it a lot.”

“At least I know I’m getting really good Ethiopian food then. Hallie seems like she had great taste.”

“Except in men.” Matt joked, smiling a little again.

“Oh, I think especially in men.” Sylvie teased him right back. She figured it was time to get off the topic of his dead fiancée though. “How did the work go today? You were working at a restaurant?”  
“El Muro, you know it? It’s in Wicker Park.”  
“I didn’t know you did restaurant work – mostly private homes.”  
“A contractor who wants to make money at the scale I work at – no permanent crews, pretty much just me and day laborers as needed – does a bit of everything.” Matt paused again, but then continued again. “Gabby’s cousin owns it. She called, needed a favor, work done at cost, so I told her I only had time today to get the work done – I’ve got jobs booked up solid, everyone wants the work done before the holidays. And I’ve now completely broken the first rule of first dates: don’t mention your exes.”

“It’s not like I didn’t know about them.” Sylvie shrugged, not caring about him mentioning either of the women who had once been in his life. She wasn’t competing with either of them, they were both gone. Besides, she was more focused on something else he said. “Gabby’s cousin called you for comp’ed work over a year after the divorce? That’s bold.”  
“Still feel like I owe them.” Matt shrugged.

“And you should be resting. You were hurt not very long ago.”  
“Trust me, resting is not what I’m planning to do tonight.”  
“Matt Casey, that is very presumptuous.”  
“I didn’t…I just mean the concert. And maybe drinks after.” He looked terribly apologetic all of a sudden. She laughed, having been teasing him anyway. She wasn’t wearing pretty underwear for nothing. She was prepared. Just in case.

Dinner was an experience. She ordered food she couldn’t pronounce, and laughed with Matt over the fact that he couldn’t pronounce it either and he’d actually been there several times before. They talked about work and friends and he tried to explain hockey to her, again, as he talked about the Blackhawks game with Severide. He’d gone, despite having worked a 14-hour day because he missed Tuesday because of his injury. He would’ve worked Tuesday anyway, but Kidd threatened to sit on him and tie him to the sofa if he didn’t take it easy. He laughed while explaining that she’d first said she’d just knock him over the head and he’d wake up tied to his bed, and Sylvie loved that what Matt found most hilarious was that Severide wasn’t upset about his girlfriend tying another man into bed but that Severide had freaked at even a playful threat of another head injury for Matt. She tried to explain to Matt that he scared them all too often, his seeming disregard for his own health and safety was worrisome, but she didn’t push it because there was no way she was ruining the vibe of the evening. The food was fantastic, she made a note to bring her parents here the next time they were in Chicago, and Matt was laughing, and she couldn’t remember the last time dinner had felt so…perfect. Like she never wanted to be in any moment other than this one. At least until they were walking to the Aragon, his arm around her as the sun had set and it was chillier now, and he was telling some amusing story about the last time he, Severide, and Andy Darden had come to a concert here, she was listening but also a little distracted by his warmth and his smell and his Matt Casey-ness. So that wasn’t just a drunk thing; that was a Matt thing. Apparently close proximity to him melted part of her brain. She also loved that he’d clearly taken her advice and foregone the cologne, since he smelled clean and sawdusty and him, not of cologne. It was another moment that she never wanted to trade. It felt easy and natural, huddling into his side a bit because he was warm and it was October in Chicago, and because she could.

Security at the Aragon was tight. She couldn’t pretend to not be a little put-off by the literal pat-down at the door, but at least they had female security on, too. Plus, she had to laugh at Matt’s face when he thought for a second that the same (female) security guard was going to pat him down, too. It was hilarious, especially the fact that the guard laughed at his reaction as she waved him past to the next male staff member.

“It’s not _that_ funny.” Matt protested after they’d gotten inside and were orienting themselves, figuring out where they wanted to be for the concert. The first of the opening acts was already playing.

“It’s pretty funny.” Sylvie disagreed. “You looked terrified, mister big bad firefighter.”  
“Random woman’s hands on my ass is a little disturbing, okay?”  
“What if a not so random woman’s hands end up on your ass tonight?” She teased him.

“That depends.” Matt smiled, pulling her into his arms. “Is she about five-five, blond hair, big blue eyes, and has the cutest little Indiana accent?”

“I do not have an accent!” Sylvie protested, and she meant to slap his side, she really did, but she sort of missed and kind of spanked him. Which was mortifying for a split second, then he pulled her in closer and she was sure he was going to kiss her, she held her breath and then he just whispered into her ear.

“Careful. _Your_ hands on my ass cause a very different reaction.” Then he pulled back abruptly, the teasing little jerk. “You want a beer or anything?”

“One now, before it gets crowded.” She agreed, turning towards the bar she’d already seen as they moved into the building. “And can we try to find a place where it’s less likely some jerk will spill his beer down my back or something?”  
“Maybe,” He pulled her back, until she was pressed against his front, his arms around her waist. He was so touchy on dates, it turned out, she was a little surprised but very much pleased at this development, “I could just keep you like this the whole night, to make sure nothing gets spilled down your back.”

“I don’t know. You might regret that decision once I start dancing to the music.” She shimmied a little in his arms, hips swinging just a bit, indicating what she meant. She wasn’t the type to be able to not dance at a concert, and she didn’t think he wanted her to step on his feet. His hands clamped down on her hips, stilling her. She was sure she heard him curse a little, but then he was stepping back from her.

“You are a menace.” He said, trying to keep a serious face, but failing miserably.

Confession: Kaleo was not her favorite band. She didn’t dislike them at all, but she still had that farm girl affection for country music, and so she did not know every song they played. For some people, that might have meant the concert wasn’t that great. Not for her. Not, she thought, for anyone who was out with Matt Casey, who clearly did know every word to every song, and was the kind of person to sing along at a concert which surprised her a lot more than that he knew the songs. Everyone in the firehouse had heard him insisting, more than once, that they were the best ‘new’ band out there, mostly because Severide kept teasing him about it. She wasn’t ready to guarantee anything because, hello, background noise, but she was pretty certain he had a pretty decent voice, too. Plus, it was crowded, and the lights were dark (of course), and especially after some assholes had started a fight next to her (she caught an elbow to her shoulder, thankfully just her shoulder, and security had been there a split second later), she enjoyed that Matt had kept her sort of right in front of him for most of the concert. She danced and swayed with the music, the whatever it was he ordered with dinner and the beer during the opening acts had her just buzzed enough to not worry about how much she was enjoying the slight friction of dancing against his body every once in a while, just from the varying amounts of space they had. Her favorite part was during the song in Icelandic (they were from Iceland, she didn’t even know that before) and everyone was sort of swaying with it, and she was pressed against his front, and she tilted her head back to look at him. For a second, she was certain he was going to kiss her, but instead he just smiled softly, beautifully (if a man could be beautiful, surely Matt qualified), and she pressed herself more closely against him despite the warmth of the room. It didn’t feel like a first date at all. It felt like they’d been together a comfortably long time, this was so easy and natural.


	5. You Are a Menace

It was midnight when the concert ended, and her buzz was fading, but she wasn’t ready to end the night. Unless he was. But he didn’t seem in a rush to call it a night either. Instead, as they exited onto Lawrence, he turned her so they were facing each other. Finally, he was actually going to kiss her. Technically they’d had their first kiss, but not sober, at least not on her part.  
“You want to get a drink someplace? Or you ready for me to take you home?”  
“Definitely a drink.” She decided and then she decided screw it if he wasn’t going to kiss her she was going to kiss him, and she pulled him down to meet her lips with his own, and yes, yes, yes, she had not just been drunk, the kissing was good even sober. She wasn’t too distracted by the kissing, though it was close, to miss the way his arms felt around her this time, she didn’t remember that from the other night, but there was something wonderfully primal about being in the arms of a man you not only knew was strong but you could feel the strength in him. It was sexy as hell, and she moved as close to him as she could get, her tongue ending up inside his mouth, and then his inside hers, and she just barely registered his hand on her ass, keeping her whole body pressed against his.  
“Hey, move it, that’s our Uber. Get a room.”  
She almost laughed as they pulled apart with that romantic reminder from a fellow concert-goer that they were on the sidewalk in front of the Aragon. She grabbed his hand, and tugged at it.  
“Come on, let’s find that drink.”  
“There’s a cocktail bar at the Lawrence House that I’ve heard good things about. About two minutes walk probably from here.” Matt nodded in the east direction, so that must be the way to this bar. So she went that way, still holding on to his hand because she wanted to and he was making no move to pull away in any way. It was cold, but for two minutes, she was fine. She nearly walked right past, but Matt pulled her back to go into the lobby of a residential building. It turned out, the bar was basically in the lobby. Larry’s Cocktail Bar was small, most of the patrons were in the lobby it seemed, but then it was pretty busy, not surprising if it was any good given it was late on a Friday night.  
“Find a seat, I’ll get drinks – you want me to find you a menu?”  
“How about you bring me whatever you think I’ll like?”  
“Is this a test?”  
“Maybe.” She smiled at him. “Just remember I don’t drink gin.”  
“Got it. It’s gonna take a few minutes. You want to check in with Cruz and Otis, make sure they don’t worry about you?” He asked, as he kissed her once, softly, then headed into the actual bar. She was left thinking of course he was exactly that sort of guy to encourage her to check in with her friends. Not that he was the kind of guy you needed a mid-date check-in for, like when you first met a guy and you had set check-ins so your friends knew you weren’t out with like a serial killer or just a general creeper who was more interested in getting in your pants than getting to know you. Then again, while it was a first date, it was only sort of a first date. They’d known each other for years. Still, she had no desire to stir up whatever this was with Otis right now, but she did text Kidd and Foster. She had promised them updates, why not right now instead of in the morning?  
-I can’t believe I waited this long to do this-  
-you’re too careful. He’s a great guy. You’re a great girl. You’ll be great together.- Kidd responded almost immediately. There was a pause, then another text. –Kelly is pretending he’s not interested in the date gossip but he totally is cheering for you too.-  
-The concert was fantastic and dinner was amazing.-  
-Great, now fuck the man already. You both need to get laid. Badly.- Foster’s reply was sort of predictable, but also kind of funny.  
-I’m not trying to pressure you into anything but you know feel free to keep him out well after bedtime.- Kidd added.  
-I don’t think I can do both. Otis, Joe, Lily, and Chloe are all over at our place tonight. And you and Severide are there.-  
-Honey, hotel rooms. Nothing hotter than hotel sex. You can be loud and ditch the neighbors next morning.- Foster shot back almost immediately. Sylvie didn’t answer that comment, because while there was definitely an appeal to the idea of sex with Matt Casey, a hotel room seemed a little…cheap or something. Tawdry. Like one of Foster’s dates. Okay, that was maybe a little unfair. But Sylvie wasn’t all that much like Emily in that way.  
“You look concerned about something. Everything alright at home?” Matt reappeared, drinks in hand. She realized she hadn’t really found them a seat. The lobby was decently lit, but cozy, and was a popular place. He grinned, handing her one of the drinks. “Come on, there’s some room at the center table in the actual bar.”  
They chatted lightly over the drinks, mostly about the concert, but also just about random little things that had occurred since they last had a substantial conversation. He kept moving tiny increments closer to her, mostly to be heard clearly over the background noise. The bar wasn’t horribly loud, but it was busy on a Friday, and it wasn’t like she minded at all. In fact, she just cut to the chase and pretty much ducked under his arm, pressing herself into his side. He was warm and comfortable, and whatever he’d gotten her was tasty as well as rather strong. She glanced at his drink, and realized something.  
“You’re drinking water. Straight water, not like a vodka thingy.”  
“Yeah.” He admitted, a little shyly. “I’m driving, so…I figure the two drinks earlier tonight are enough.”  
“I guess that makes sense.” She had to admit, it really did. She just felt a little like he was always the sober one between them. Which was unfair. And what if he thought she was like a drunk or a lush or something.  
“So, while I have you at least a little bit drunk, I wanted to ask. Would you like to do this again?”  
“You mean go out with you, right?”  
“Yes, Sylvie, I mean go out with me again. Do you want to?”  
“Of course. Absolutely. I had a great time. I am having a great time. You are a great guy, Matt Casey.” She leaned up, kissing him softly then whispering into his ear, “and you are a fantastic kisser and I’d really like to continue doing that, right now, in fact. But we’re in public.”  
He must’ve not cared too much about that, and really most bars in Chicago had surely seen worse than him pulling her into another heavy bout of kissing right there in the middle of the bar. It wasn’t obscene or anything, his hands stayed wrapped around her, one behind her head and the other at her waist, and hers around his back, but it was still fantastic. She pulled back, drained the last of her drink, and smiled up at him.  
“You ready to go?”  
“Uh, sure. Where to?”  
“Your truck.”

She stayed attached to his side through the short walk, both because of the chill and because it felt more secure, even in these pretty well-traveled and well-policed parts of Chicago, it was still nearly 1 am in a part of the city she didn’t know very well. Also, he was seriously hot. Not attractive, okay he was that, too, but like a space heater, he was hot. Once they were back at his truck, he went to open the door for her again, but instead the vodka in that cocktail he’d brought her must’ve kicked in or something, because she sort of pushed him against the truck and kissed him again, good and hard and proper. The parking garage was pretty well-lit, and patrolled, but all she cared about right now was how fantastic it felt to be kissing him and pressed up against him, their mouths and tongues tangling as hands wandered freely with the illusion of privacy they currently enjoyed. At some point, she felt them spin and then she was pinned between him and the truck. Her hands were under his sweater, feeling the smooth hot skin of his sides and back, and then the hair on his chest and the trail that led south to his belt, but she stayed north of that line for now. His leg was between hers, and he was still kissing her like it was breath itself, and she felt the same about him, and it took her a few minutes to realize she was practically riding his thigh, she was so turned on by this man.  
“Hey, buddy, take her home for that!” Matt pulled away sharply, and she couldn’t help laughing into his shoulder. Of course the security guard patrolling the garage would be walking by. Of course. The security guy looked amused as well. “Not saying I blame you, she looks great, but I don’t wanna have to call the cops for public indecency, man, or deal with other customers being pissed.”  
“No problem, we’re headed home.” Matt replied, rolling his eyes a little but he was smiling. He ushered her into the truck, and then slid into his own seat. He looked at her, clearly amused but trying to sound accusatory. “You are a menace, Sylvie.”  
“I couldn’t resist. You’re too sexy tonight. And you remembered what I said. You smell like you, sawdust and you.”  
“I’m pretty good at following explicit directions.” He chuckled. “Especially when it results in that.”  
“Mmm. I’ll keep that in mind.” She agreed idly, realizing she could reach out and run her hand up his thigh, which looked really nice incased in that denim. How many men had nice thighs? He did. He also had a fantastic ass, but he was sitting on that currently so she couldn’t enjoy it. She enjoyed for several minutes the feeling of the denim texture and the firm muscle beneath, until his hand clamped on her wrist (again, he was always interrupting her fun like that, jerk). She looked out the windshield, they were stopped at a red light. She looked to him, wondering why he stopped her.  
“Your hand goes any further up my leg, I’m going to have trouble driving safely.”  
“Did you know you have sexy thighs?” She was definitely drunk. That drink was strong. She’d be suspicious that he’d done it purposely, but if he’d wanted her drunk to have sex with her, he would’ve done it the first night she basically threw herself at him.  
“No,” he was laughing now, “I can’t say anyone has ever said much of anything about my thighs.” They pulled away as the light turned green.  
“Well, you do. And I would like to be kissing you again, but that would obstruct your driving. So I’m stuck just thinking about it. Which is not as much fun. I’d really like to go back to having your tongue in my mouth. Is that too much information? I don’t want to sound-”  
“Screw it.” He muttered, and pulled them over into a semi-lit parking lot. Then he was out of his seatbelt and kissing her, and she felt seventeen again, making out with a boy in the cab of a pick-up truck, and her own seatbelt went away, as he managed to mostly lay her down across the seat, their mouths never parting for me than a few panted stolen breaths. His strong, callous-rough hands were sliding under her shirt, and she moaned a little as he palmed her boobs, even with his hands still over her bra that felt fantastic, and she was trying to not get distracted from her attempts to peel his shirt over his head, but he was not cooperating, too focused on his hands on her and his mouth on her, and his teeth and lips going down the deep v of her shirt felt amazing, she could only imagine what it would feel like when he wasn’t mouthing the tops of her boobs but was on her nipple, oh, damn, she was so ready for this, for him, and forgetting his shirt, she fumbled blindly at his belt, her fingers working desperately between their two bodies even as he was unhelpfully but fantastically, strongly but gently, inexorably thrusting their bodies together. She had her hands inside his pants, seeking out what she suddenly desperately wanted, and then she found it, wrapping her right hand around his hard dick, what she could reach of it at this awkward angle anyway, and it was hot, hard, and if drunk-her was any judge, bigger than she’d expected, he hadn’t felt that big last time, but that had been a split second, over his clothes, and this was his heat, in her hand, and then she nearly bit him in immature frustration when once again he grabbed her wrist and took advantage of his greater strength to move her hand away from what she wanted just as strongly, gently, and inexorably as he’d been thrusting against her seconds earlier. They really needed to talk about his bad habit of pulling her hands away from what she wanted.  
“Shit, not like this, Sylvie.” He managed, sounding as frustrated as she felt. “I’m sorry, I can’t…you deserve a lot better than this.”  
“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” She took a deep breath, still frustrated but also hating the tone of his voice, there was just something a little dark about it that she instinctively hated.  
“Please don’t think I don’t want…you, this, both. Very much.”  
“I can tell you do.” She kissed him swiftly, leaned up to press their lips together gently. “I just had proof of it in my hand, if I’d had any doubt.”  
“I just think we’re both too old, and you’re way too good, for this to happen in a truck in a parking lot.” He sighed, and sat up, rearranging his clothes, which was sort of amusing to watch, since apparently he didn’t fit as comfortably into his jeans as he had earlier in the night. He looked upset, though, not like it was just missing out on the sex, something else.  
“It’s okay, Matt.” She reassured, sliding across to sit next to him. She rubbed his arm gently, trying to go for the least sexy method of physical touch she could think of. Except the feel of his bicep beneath her hand was still pretty damn sexy, that or she was just that desperately horny. Possibly both. “There’s always our second date.”  
“You’re still interested in a second date?” He sort of sounded like he wasn’t joking.  
“With the guy who just made me feel like that? Uhm, yeah, absolutely. And if my house wasn’t currently being used to plan Cruz’s wedding, I would take you home and take you up on what you were just offering, Matt Casey.”  
“If it’s not too forward, then, how do you feel about our second official date being Monday night?”  
“Sure, but why would that be too forward?” They’d already agreed to a second date, and what had just happened sure had not felt like any sort of changing of the minds.  
“Stella and Kelly are going to be in Milwaukee to see her family for something. Gone over night.”  
“Hmmm.” She smiled, and gently turned his face so she could kiss him more soundly. “That sounds very promising. In fact, I think I’ll be looking forward to getting better acquainted with you, and this,” she rested her hand over the bulge still visible in his jeans, “in pretty much every free moment between now and then.”  
“Have I mentioned that you’re a menace?” He asked, eyebrows raised as he looked down at her hand. She obligingly removed it. She knew, had she been more sober, she’d have never done that. It was weird, how much being so free with him was natural and she knew that while she might not have done it fully sober, she wasn’t going to regret it when she sobered up, either. She wasn’t that drunk, just enough to…take the edge off.  
“Many times. I think I like being a menace.” She kissed him again. “I think you like menaces.”  
“Oh, I do. I definitely do.” He admitted, kissing her firmly, then shooing her back to her side of the truck. “Now, I have to finish driving you home, and being gentlemanly.”


	6. A Little Mystery

She withstood most of the questioning from Foster and Kidd throughout the shift on Sunday. She might have, a little bit, confirmed that their first date had gone well and that they were going out again, but that was all. Okay, that and the fact that Matt Casey was a fantastic kisser. Because he was, and they’d insisted her blush was giving something away, so she caved and confessed that they’d kissed, a lot. She stayed strong though and refused to say when their second date was going to be, mostly because she desperately did not want Kidd to figure out that they were timing it to give them some privacy at Severide’s apartment. She normally didn’t mind having roommates, but sometimes it was awkward – like when you’re dating the boss of your roommates.  
She also knew that other people in the house were catching on to there being something between her and Matt. God bless the man, he did not really have a subtle bone in his body, he was just too honest and forthright, even with his feelings. Oh, he never talked about them, but anyone who knew him could tell. So, yes, it was obvious that something had changed. Matt sat next to her as much as he could on shift, not in a hovering way just in a completely natural ‘I like your proximity’ way that she swore resulted in money changing hands for most of the guys. Otis was giving Casey the stink-eye. Herrmann was just eyeing them both suspiciously. Severide kept nudging Matt. So it wasn’t like there was some big secret. She just didn’t want to openly confirm anything yet. Maybe she was just nervous, what if it didn’t work out, then they all had to work together still, or worse, what if it didn’t work out and he left 51? He hadn’t left when he broke up with Dawson, but Dawson had. Well, the last time she had. The previous times had just been awkward for everyone.  
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Matt asked her, appearing behind her as they made their way out of the house after shift on Monday morning. She had come to a stop, she realized, halfway down the drive.  
“Honestly? What happens if this thing between us doesn’t work out.”  
“Second thoughts?” He asked, his tone carefully neutral.  
“No, no, not at all, I definitely have not changed my mind, but what if you do? What if it just goes wrong? Will you leave 51? Will I?”  
“Do you honestly think I’d ask you to leave?”  
“No, of course not. But you might. Chief said you’re already signed up for several shifts at another house later this month. He sounded mad.”  
“He didn’t announce that to the house.” Matt sounded suspicious.  
“I heard him on the phone. Not intentionally just…when he gets mad, Chief gets loud. I was outside his office, needed to ask him something.” Sylvie sighed. “Are you transferring out or thinking about it?”  
“They’ll be prying the keys to Truck 81 out of my cold dead fingers when I’m 81.” Matt laughed, genuinely, and the sound was so warm, she kind of wanted to bask in it. “I’m not going anywhere, Sylvie. I promise.”  
“But Chief was…it sounded like you were going to be gone long enough that someone else would have to handle our leave paperwork and that stuff for a while. Not one shift like last week.”  
“Look, can I explain over breakfast? This isn’t really the place to talk about it.”  
“Sure – Crispin’s?”  
“Yeah, sounds good, I’ll meet-” Matt was cut off by Severide practically tackling him from behind, laughing loudly, with Stella standing a few feet away. Sylvie laughed, too, but had to admit she had never understood the very boyish relationship between those two: they were clearly close friends, but often argued (complete with ‘I’m not speaking to him’ periods), and yet they showed affection half the time by nudging, tackling, teasing each other mercilessly. Boys.  
“Hey, Case, you coming back to the apartment or you got work?”  
“Brett and I were going to breakfast.”  
“You and Brett, huh?” Severide looked between them, his eyebrows waggling in a very, very unsubtle teasing manner.  
“Shut up, Severide.”  
“Anyway, we’ll be out by like 11. We’re up in Milwaukee until tomorrow evening – can you”  
“I won’t forget to fix it.” Matt cut him off, as they walked towards their vehicles.  
“Thanks, and”  
“Yeah, I’ll run by the grocery store.”  
“Told ya,” Severide looked back at Stella, “he’s like a live-in handyman and mom all at once. He cooks, he cleans, and he fixes furniture.”  
“How in hell did you ever survive living on your own?” Matt shook his head fondly.  
“Pretty sure I just called you. And I can clean, you’re just pickier than I am and do it first.”  
“Yeah, well, after breakfast I’ve got to go to the Beckman project, finish up there, and then I’ll hit the store. And I’ll fix your dresser tomorrow. Don’t embarrass the entire city of Chicago up in Milwaukee.”  
“Don’t worry, in my family, he seems pretty tame.” Stella joked. “Thanks for running the errands, Casey.”  
“ No problem, I do live there, too. Least I can do.”  
Stella grabbed her into a hug, which surprised Sylvie for a moment, until she realized Stella was just covering for a rushed whisper of “take the opportunity, have sex with him – trust me, you’ll both be much nicer to live with with the tension resolved.” Then she pulled back, saying more loudly, “enjoy breakfast, I’ll see you Wednesday morning, Brett – Casey, we’ll see you tomorrow night.”  
“Enjoy the time with your family.” Matt called after her, and the answering smiles from both Severide and Stella told Sylvie they both heard exactly what she did: his genuine demand that they not take for granted time with loved ones. He had so little of his own family that Matt deeply valued the families and family time of the people around him. 

At breakfast, they talked of a few little and light things while they ordered, and ate, and then she prompted him with a pointed look. He really was fantastically well-trained, and capitulated immediately, though not without a slightly heavy sigh.  
“You can’t really…tell anyone, okay?”  
“Tell anyone what? That you’re taking shifts at another house? I think they’re all going to notice that. If nothing else, the absence of your handsome face will be noticed.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what the guys will think about – my ‘handsome’ face.” Matt chuckled, but then became serious again. “Chief got a call from Commissioner Grissom. He’s temporarily reassigning me to House 29.”  
“That’s up in Avondale isn’t it?”  
“Yep. Grissom called me in last week, says he needs some fresh eyes on the situation there.” Matt shrugged lightly. “I told him I’m not a rat, that we have IAD for that stuff, but he says he needs a ‘real firefighter’ not IAD. Something about issues with turnover, nothing illegal for IAD to do, just assessing how things are run.”  
“He’s sending someone from 51, the most notoriously independent-minded ‘screw the brass’ house in the city…to look for people not following brass’s orders?”  
“I think there’s something…dishonest.” Matt shrugged again. “He kept saying he needed an honest guy, and remind me to punch Sev, but Grissom said I was the most honest firefighter he’d heard of, said Severide told him I was the most stand-up guy he knew.”  
“Oh, that’s really sweet of him.” Sylvie couldn’t help it, it was really sweet.  
“Yeah, so ‘sweet’ it got me pulled out of 51 for at least a couple weeks to play ‘rat’ in another house. I don’t even know what I’m looking for, just looking. I don’t like it.” Matt paused, sighing again. “If there’s a problem, though, much as I hate being a rat, I know I’ll report it. Severide’s right, it’s like a compulsion for me. I really am a frigging Eagle Scout.”  
“It’s one of your most adorable and attractive qualities.” Sylvie smiled brightly at him. “You do the right thing, even when it hurts, and you expect others to do the same. It’s a good thing, Matt.”  
“Anyway, the official reason is temporary cover for Polanshek’s knee injury. The chief up there’s only been there for a few years, and there’s no captain in the floating pool right now – Grissom says Boden’s got enough experience to cover my duties with a floater lieutenant on the truck; this chief doesn’t. So, if anyone asks, its cover for Polanshek.”  
“You could’ve just told me that. Left out the part that’s unofficial or I’m not supposed to know.” Sylvie pointed out.  
“I don’t think any sort of secrets are a good place to start a relationship. If we’re going to do this, Sylvie, I don’t want distance or even little ‘harmless’ lies between us.” There was a strength to his voice, almost a vitriol, which surprised her, but then, maybe not. She knew that Gabby had often left him out of things, or omitted things, sometimes outright lied to him, just to avoid an uncomfortable conversation or one where she thought they might fight. The thing with Bria sprang to her mind, and then whatever that was with Cordova, too. Gabby had always seemed surprised that Matt was upset, then apologetic if he said anything about it, but she kept doing it anyway. Remembering how tough she’d found it even then to watch Matt getting hurt, Sylvie found herself nodding in agreement.  
“I agree with you, actually. I mean, some secrets are obviously okay. Like presents. Some mystery is okay. Right?”  
“What do you mean by mystery?”  
“Like…leaving you wondering what color is my underwear going to be tonight?” She leaned forward to almost whisper that to him. He blanched for a second, then a small grin spread across his face.  
“Now that you’ve put it in my head, I better get to solve that ‘mystery’ tonight.”  
“We’ll see. Maybe I’ll make you solve clues, see if you earn it.” She raised her voice back to normal volume. “Speaking of tonight, what are you thinking?”  
“I thought I’d cook.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but he looked a little nervous. Which was silly because he was a great cook. There was a reason the entire house considered it a celebratory (or celebration-worthy) event when he cooked. Mills had been a good cook, but there was something special about Matt cooking, aided she figured by the rarity of it. Severide grilled (quite nicely), but Matt cooked.  
“That sounds great. Especially since I know you have to work today, you said the Beckman project, right?”  
“Yeah, I’m finishing up their second bathroom today. The plumber finished up yesterday while we were on shift, now I just have to tile the shower and clean it up.”  
“You can do that and have time to cook?”  
“They picked larger tiles, so it doesn’t take as long. Dinner won’t be super early, though, like 7 o’clock if that’s okay.” He shrugged, but his competence at the construction stuff was really pretty sexy to her. She didn’t even know why, it just was. Maybe it was just him. She didn’t think she found most construction crew guys sexy. So maybe it was another one of those just Matt things. She felt the random need to lean forward and hold his hand.  
“7 o’clock is fine. And, I am bringing dessert.”  
“Yes, yes you are.” Matt’s face was…almost leering, and she realized he was looking well below her face. She hadn’t thought she was wearing anything exactly sexy, until she glanced down and realized she’d missed the top button of her shirt and with her leaning forward, he could see down it and had a lovely view of the top of her boobs.  
“You are…such a…boy.” She huffed, really not all that annoyed, just a touch embarrassed by his attention. Given she had already mentioned underwear, it wasn’t like he’d started the slightly inappropriate teasing anyway.  
“I was so good until you leaned forward and…I was lost.” He was smiling as he admitted it.  
“I meant that I’ll bring an actual dessert.”  
“You can do that, too.” He sighed, looking at his watch. “I better get going. Mrs. Beckman will hover, which slows me down a little. I can’t tell if she thinks I’m going to screw up or I’m going to steal something – she barely lets me out of her sight for five minutes she checks in so often. The only good thing is that she and her daughters always have cookies or something for me – I'll probably end up eating some grout, but it’s worth it.”  
“Text me if there’s a problem and we have to push dinner back. Otherwise, I’ll be at yours at seven.”  
“I look forward to solving the mystery.” He winked, dropping more than enough cash on the table to cover both breakfasts, and she didn’t even bother arguing with him. Because he would argue. Oh, well, there were far worse habits a man could have than insisting on paying for meals.


	7. Phone Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get used to this pace of writing, I usually can't churn out chapters at this rate. Hell, maybe you can get used to it. Due to the nature of my work and the COVID-19 concerns, I've been furloughed from work for the foreseeable future and since we're all encouraged to remain at home, that means more time to re-watch episodes of Chicago Fire and to write fanfiction. So there's that. It's not much comfort I suppose, but it's something to do (that isn't panic-buying all the toilet paper).

The problem with opening your mouth sometimes was that then you had to follow through on what you said. She’d teased him about her underwear for that night, and then realized she didn’t have anything that felt worth the ‘mystery’ she’d promised him. The only solution to her dilemma was to go shopping. Of course, then she had to try to decide what he liked, which, well, they hadn’t exactly been together long enough for her to know his tastes in lingerie or her underwear, like if he preferred a certain cut or style or color or something. She knew a lot about him, but with the whole ‘just friends’ thing having lasted until pretty much right now, and that whole ‘husband of my best friend’ thing, she really had not wanted to know his tastes in women’s underwear until now. She did know that Gabby’s go-to was black and lacy, because Gabby had mentioned it a few times. Sylvie had never wanted to ask if it was the go-to because it was Matt’s favorite or because it was _Gabby’s_ favorite (hey, if it made _you_ feel confident and sexy, go with it – he’ll like the confidence, right?). She wasn’t sure black was the best color on her skin anyway. Plus, she didn’t want to repeat what his ex-wife had done, right? And how had her life reached the point that she was comparing herself to her ex-best friend and what her ex-best friend’s ex-husband liked? It was exactly the sort of weird turn around she had always associated with a small town like Fowlerton, where people actually ended up dating friends’ exes because, hello, small dating pool. She had all of Chicago, and still, yep, ex-best friend’s ex-husband. But he was Matt. Which was more important than the ex-husband of ex-best friend. Plus two negatives make a positive. So she was cool. If she could just figure out the best kind of underwear to wear for their big night. Was she putting too much pressure on herself? On him? What if it didn’t go right, or go there, or…go at all? She decided desperate times called for desperate measures, and she had a trump card (an embarrassing one, but still, trump) to play yet.

“Hey, Brett, what’s up?” Stella’s voice came through the phone.

“Are you and Severide busy in the middle of the family thing?”  
“Not too busy, not for a bit. What’s up?”  
“Matt and I are going out again tonight.”  
“I sort of figured you would. So, what’s up?”  
“I need to ask Severide a potentially humiliating question.”  
“There are spare condoms in the bathrooms. Both bathrooms.”  
“Stella! That’s not…actually, that’s good to know, but not what I was asking. And aren’t you worried about saying that in the middle of like a family gathering?”  
“Not in my family.” Stella laughed. “You could’ve called Kelly directly, you know.”  
“Is he gonna laugh at me?”  
“Possibly. What’s the question, I’ll ask him.”  
“I just need to know Matt’s favorite color.”  
“You think Kelly has asked Casey his favorite color? Maybe his favorite beer.” Stella was laughing slightly. “And why? Are you buying a new dress or something?”  
“Yeah, something like that.”  
“You are buying sexy underwear, aren’t you?” Stella sounded amused and supportive at the same time. “Hold on a sec. Kelly! Hey, you know Casey’s favorite color?”  
“Why the hell would you need to know that?” Sylvie heard Severide’s voice through the phone, getting louder, so he must’ve stepped much closer to Stella.

“Sylvie’s on the phone, wants to know.”  
“Seriously, Brett?” Severide laughed a little, clearly talking right into the phone.

“You’re on speaker for a minute.” Stella announced. “Don’t worry, it’s only like my parents and us in the room right now.”  
“Your parents?!”

“Come on, Kelly, if you know, tell her.”  
“For what? For him? He never wears anything other than neutrals except a Blackhawks jersey. You getting him a gift, Brett?”  
“Well, she’s sort of getting him a gift.” Stella replied before Sylvie could.

“Oh.” Severide clearly bit back a chuckle. “Brett, are you asking me to tell you what to buy for you to wear that Casey will like?”  
“I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea.” Sylvie moaned.

“Red.” Severide supplied helpfully before she could decide to hang up. “Red, not too skimpy, satiny or silky materials.”

“I’m surprised you actually know.” Stella remarked. “You two are best friends, but I swear you barely speak to each other half the time, like you just talk about hockey and it’s magically a meaningful conversation. You criticize each other all the time. Somebody looks at the other one a little wrong, you go nuclear. I do not understand you and Casey.”

“Hey, I can pick on my brother all day, someone else does it, he goes down.” Severide replied.

“You need anything else, Brett?” Stella asked.

“No, I just have to get a dessert.”  
“Chocolate.” Severide supplied. “Brownies, chocolate cake, chocolate…pretty much anything, as long as it’s not too ‘foody’ – he doesn’t like weird stuff added in, just chocolate.”  
“There’s these little chocolate-filled devil’s food cake mini lava cake things at the bakery near my apartment.”  
“Great choice. You know what he’s making?” Severide asked.

“Uhm, no. Does it matter?”  
“Not for dessert.” Severide was chuckling again. “He’ll love anything chocolate, I promise.”  
“Does dinner matter?” Sylvie pressed, weirdly nervous about tonight. Though at least she now knew what she was shopping for. In fact, she had a really good idea about what to do with red and satiny. But what if the meal itself was supposed to tell her something? She didn’t want to misread anything or mess anything up. She heard something that sounded like maybe Stella smacking Severide’s arm.

“If he makes pasta, it’s low-key.” Severide spoke a moment later. “If he makes something Irish, like corned beef or stew, its comfort food. If he makes something complicated, like these crab-filled salmon things he makes, he’s trying to impress you.”  
“Casey can make stuffed salmon? He’s never cooked that for me, or you know, us.” Stella complained.

“He’s not trying to get in your pants or impress you.” Severide replied, chuckling again. “He made it the first time my dad came over for dinner when we were roommates still. Which, you know, Dad liked the meal, but also led to Benny telling Case he might make a better housewife than firefighter. Seriously, it’s one of his go-to ‘impress the dinner date’ things. And since it sounds like you’re trying to impress him, I’d say that’s a good thing.”  
“Great. Now if he makes pasta I’ll think-“  
“Hey, the guy is cooking for you.” Stella cut her off. “That is, you know, serious effort. Maybe he won’t want to seem like he’s trying too hard. Just go to dinner. Have a good time.”  
“And take it to the bedroom, I don’t want to have to have the sofa cleaned.”  
“God, Kelly, you’re such a jerk sometimes.”  
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Bye, thanks for the help.”  
“No problem!” Stella replied, and Sylvie hit the button to end the call. Great. One anxiety-producing question conquered, but another one handed to her. What if he went simple? Would he think she was trying too hard with fancy new underwear? But she had promised him a mystery, well, sort of promised, more teased. So she had to deliver. Plus, she really did want to follow through on that tempting promise of his from Friday night.

She was dressed, ready to go, trying to look really good without looking like she was trying too hard, probably spending too much time worrying about how she looked to actually say she wasn’t trying a little too hard. She had told Otis and Cruz she had a date again tonight, and Cruz had been politely encouraging, but Otis just rolled his eyes and told her to be careful. Like she needed to be careful with Matt. She always felt safe with him, always. She was nearly to her car when her cellphone rang, showing it was Severide.

“Hi, Severide. Is something wrong?”  
“Everything’s fine here.” Severide replied quickly. “You’re not at my place yet, are you?”  
“No, I’m just headed over. Aren’t you at the family dinner thing with Stella?”  
“I stepped outside for a minute. Wanted to call you.”  
“This isn’t about our conversation earlier, is it? Because I don’t want to talk about my…that anymore.”  
“No, no, not…whatever, I’m sure you picked something great.” She could practically see him waving off her concern. “No, this is about Matt.”  
“Well, it must be serious. You called him Matt.”  
“Look, he’s been through some shit the last several years. We all have, but he won’t talk about anything, ever. We’re a lot alike, I know that, just…he’s my best friend, Brett. There’s a lot about his relationship, his marriage, that he won’t talk about, never has, maybe never will. Just promise me you’re not…you’re serious about this, about him. Because Matt Casey doesn’t mess around. I’m serious, if he’s cooking for you, he’s…he’s in this.”  
“I’m not messing around either. I wouldn’t do that to him. Or me. Or the house, because I know this is going to cause tension at 51, it already has a bit with Otis. I’m very serious about him.”  
“Yeah, so was Dawson. At least, she always said so.” Severide sighed. “You know, every time she left him, he got…a little more desperate. A little more willing to take whatever he had to, just to keep her with him. She was conditional with him a lot, I think, a lot more than even I knew – like she only loved him when he agreed with her or did what she wanted. So just be careful with him. He’s the toughest guy I know, but you’re behind his armor now, okay?”  
“I’m not going to run off to Puerto Rico, you know.”  
“There are lots of ways to run away from him, and Dawson did them all. Just…like I said, be careful with him. Everyone else in the house is going to tell him to be careful with you, but it’s my job to tell you – and I should’ve told Dawson, not that she’d listen, and he’d listen to her before he listened to anyone else, nothing I said would’ve mattered – I like you, but if you hurt him, I will hurt you – somehow, some way. Got it?”  
“You are adorable.” She was smiling broadly, she couldn’t help it. She didn’t think ‘adorable’ was what Severide was going for, but since she had no intention of hurting Matt, she wasn’t particularly scared of whatever vague threat Severide had just made. “I’m glad you’re his friend, Kelly Severide. Keep taking care of him, and I will too. I think he needs all the guardian angels and friends he can get, just to keep him out of trouble.”  
“You know he’s on life number like twenty, right?”  
“Stupidly brave men. It’s a good thing you’re both so cute, or Stella and I would have to give up on you both. Now, I’m going to drive over to your place and enjoy my night with Matt, and you are going to go back in wherever you’re supposed to be and impress the hell out of Stella’s family. Right?”  
“Sure. Just remember – “  
“Yeah, I promise, I won’t hurt your little brother. I might just dirty him up a little.”

“Ah, his halo always has needed a little tarnish.” Severide laughed before hanging up.

She was grateful, once she saw Matt when he opened the door, that she had opted for something relatively low-key and simple over her not-particularly-low-key new purchases. He looked fantastic, but relaxed, barefoot and in jeans that fit him a little loosely, like they were older and broken in, and a t-shirt that was tight without looking too small or anything. His hair was a little tousled, not like at work (except when he took his helmet off, before he could tame it, his hair always stuck up so adorably, it made him look younger and even cuter).

“Come on in, it’s kind of a…well, Kelly likes lofts.” Matt shrugged.

“Dinner smells fantastic.” She held out the dessert box she’d brought. “As promised, I come bearing dessert. Little chocolate lava cakes, they need to be warmed up a little later for best effect I was told.”

“Just, uh, set them on the bar there.” Matt gestured. “Dinner’s almost ready. I just have to finish with the asparagus and plate the salmon. It’s crab-stuffed salmon with butter sauce and asparagus. I ran out of time to pick up fresh bread, sorry.”

“Crab-stuffed salmon?”  
“Uh…I hope that’s okay? I know you’re not allergic and you like salmon-“ She cut him off with a firm kiss to his lips.

“It’s perfect, Matt. Absolutely perfect.”


	8. Sober and Enthusiastic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there are at least a few people who've been waiting with varying degrees of patience for this part.

This dinner was even more fantastic than their foray into Ethiopian food. The food was of course really good, Matt was a great cook, but more importantly now that she knew for sure what he meant when he cooked this for her, it was so much more meaningful. His loft, well, Severide’s loft, was not really set up for dinner parties, but there was a small table they ate at. The food was nicer than the setting, she had to admit. The apartment wasn’t ugly by any stretch, but it wasn’t really her type of place. She loved the exposed brick walls, but it was big and mostly felt under-furnished. It didn’t feel very much like Matt, but then, nothing here was his. Conversation over dinner had been lively and amusing, mostly comparing notes of recent calls, although Matt shared a hilarious story about his recent construction client as well – apparently Mrs. Beckman had been subtly trying to ascertain if Matt was single, and her hovering abruptly ended when he mentioned he had a girlfriend he was cooking dinner for that night. She was thrown by that for a second, though. Matt noticed, his smile fading a bit.  
“Are we not…I thought…is it too soon for that? Calling you that?”  
“I don’t think it is.” Sylvie replied honestly. “I mean, usually two dates I’d say yes, too soon. But with us, I think it’s right. I mean, on the second date usually I’m still figuring out if I like the other person, you know? I already know I really like you. We’ve been friends for years. We’re adding a new dimension but I think, it’s quick, but not too quick. I think I’d like to be your girlfriend, Matt Casey."

“Good. It’s where my head is. I just don’t, I’m not normally the type to do casual, and certainly not with someone like you.”  
“Someone like me?”  
“Someone I already knew I loved.” Matt admitted a little shyly. “I mean, as a friend, you’re right, we’re just adding the new dimension of an ‘us’, with all that implies, but I already love you, you mean too much to me for this to be anything other than serious. You know that, right?”  
“I did know that, and I feel the same way about you.” She paused. “It’s not very many guys who’d cook like this for a casual date.”  
“Dinner was good?” He asked, as if genuinely uncertain.

“It was fantastic, Matt. Where did you learn to cook so well? Everyone in the house knows you cook amazing food, but Mills, you know, grew up in a restaurant pretty much. So what about you? Secret family restaurant history?”  
“Not really.” Matt shrugged. “I learned from Aintin Jo, when I was in high school. I like cooking, so I always kept with it. I like seeing people enjoy what I make.”  
“Who is Auntie Jo?”  
“Her ‘real’ name is Joanna Gallagher. I lived in her house for my senior year of high school.”  
“After your…after your mom went to prison.”  
“You can say it, Sylvie.” Matt almost managed a smile. “I’m used to it. It’s been almost 22 years. After my mom shot my dad in the face and was sent to prison for second-degree murder. Yeah, eventually I ended up at the Gallaghers’ and she taught me to cook. She also taught me that cooking for someone is a way of loving them, taking care of them. So yeah, I like to cook for people who are important to me.”  
“That is amazingly sweet. But I’m also way too full to want the dessert I brought.” She paused, letting him get a drink of his beer and swallow before she continued, “so I think it’s mystery solving time.” Despite her being certain to leave him time to swallow that mouthful of beer, he still managed to sputter at her directness. She laughed a little. “Okay, I admit, it’s not the most romantic transition I’ve ever made, but I’m going with the honest and forthright theme we’ve got going so far. And you said you were waiting for sober, enthusiastic consent. I’ve had half a glass of wine with dinner, I’m still sober definitely. This is me saying both soberly and enthusiastically that I’d like to continue where we left off in your truck, Matt.”

“I could get used to honest and forthright.” Matt smiled, moving closer to her, their eyes meeting for a moment. Knowing what was about to happen, what she wanted to happen and he wanted to happen, what they’d planned to happen, the moment seemed to stretch out. Then he kissed her, not a tentative opening kiss either, but a heavy, hot, hard kiss that overwhelmed her senses for a moment where all she could take in was his mouth on hers and the strong smell of sawdust mixed with just him (she could never place what it was, it was just Matt Casey). The next sensation she registered was her back hitting the support beam that had been a few feet behind her, but now she was pressed against it, but far more important than the cold metal behind was the heat against her front. He abandoned her mouth, letting her gulp precious air, as his mouth moved down her neck, and his hands roved all over her body. Her right hand was buried in his hair, as if encouraging him to increase the pressure on all those spots he was finding, and her left was trying with only a bit of success to burrow under his shirt and find hot skin to touch. He was kissing her again suddenly, his tongue in her mouth before she could have complained even if she’d wanted to (she didn’t), and he was pressing his body so hard against hers that she could barely even wiggle, but it wasn’t enough friction where she wanted it, so she opened her legs wider, letting his right leg slip between her legs to bring his thrusts into better contact with her own. Eventually he pulled back from her mouth again, panting heavily (she was sure she was too), and hands reaching for the hem of her shirt, but she remembered in a split second of coherent thought,

“Bedroom.”  
He merely grunted a response, but one arm wrapped around her upper back and one under her ass, as he moved them back from the pillar she was pressed against. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. Then he carried her, full out carried her like that, down the short hallway off the kitchen to what was currently serving as his bedroom she presumed, it could’ve been the roof for all she cared beyond there was a bed in it and now she was on that bed with Matt on top of her, between her legs, and yes, that was sexy as fuck both him between her legs and the way he’d carried her so easily. He was heavy on top of her, but instead of feeling suffocating it felt perfect. He was kissing her neck again, making his way with lips and tongue and teeth down to her collarbone, and she couldn’t help thrusting up into him, it felt so good. She grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging it up insistently until he was forced to cooperate and stop what he was doing just long enough to pull it off and toss it somewhere, she didn’t notice or care at all where.

“Matt.” She tried to wrap her hand in his hair, tugging to get his attention, but she had to try a second time because his hair was a little short and she hadn’t gotten any grip at all. “Matt.”  
“Something wrong?” He asked, a little out of breath, looking truly concerned but also a little impatient.

“What happened to your shoulders and arms?”  
“Accelerant. Fire. Beam fell. I’m fine. Mind if I…”  
“This doesn’t hurt?” He really did look bruised and singed, and she remembered Stella mentioning that actually. She was worried about him, it looked like it hurt.

“Hurt enough to stop this?” Matt looked baffled by the suggestion. Then he grinned, a sexy, dirty sort of grin, “It’s some bruises, and a few burns. Is that really what you want to concentrate on right now? You gave me a mystery to solve. I’m thinking something lacy, no, more satin. Still have to find out the color though.” He thrust his hips into hers again, slowly, more like a grind really, as his hands explored beneath her shirt. She couldn’t help a little groan and pulling him more tightly against her body. He must’ve taken that for an answer, and he attacked her neck again, a moment before rolling them so she was on top. She approved of this, though their legs tangled a little awkwardly, mostly because it allowed him to pull her own shirt over her head and she sat up as much as she could, weight centered over his hips and the bulge she could feel; she was wanting to show off her purchase a little. She ground down against him, enjoying the feel against her own most sensitive areas, even through layers of clothing, as she let him stare at her. If possible, his eyes got a little wider and his pupils dilated, she could tell he approved of her choice by the look on his face, and the fact that his hands moved from her hips to her boobs, tracing the shape of her new bra carefully, gently.

“That looks…so hot.” Matt managed. “At some point, I am fucking you with that still on.”  
“At some point?”  
“I’ve been waiting for days to do this.” Matt smiled hungrily at her, sitting up a little so he could reach, a hand slipping behind her to deftly catch the hooks to her bra and in a second it seemed he had her bra off to join their shirts in NeverNeverLand. He sat up fully and damn he was nicely built, lightly hairy but she could see his muscles moving as he did, and then she noticed nothing except his mouth on her nipple and his teeth and tongue and lips dragging embarrassingly loud sounds from her because fuck he was good at this, and she pressed down as hard as she could to grind against him, chasing every bit of pleasure she could reach, her own hands blindly mapping his chest, back, and shoulders. Then he rolled them again, she was beneath him and his mouth was on hers, his tongue tangling with hers, and it took her a moment to realize her hands were clutching his ass, encouraging him to thrust more against her, just as his own hands were busily playing with her tits and nipples especially. Leaving her breathless and gasping, he pulled away and trailed down her body, as his hands led the way. He undid the button on her jeans, and slid the tight denim from her, she happily raised her hips from the bed to help. Jeans were tossed away but he seemed to pause, kneeling over her, his butt almost on his own heels, her legs spread to either side of him now, and he was staring down at her. Her underwear (she hated the word panties, even in her own head) was red, satiny, and just barely covered the hair down there. Bits of lace decorated the edge, making them seem a tiny bit more substantial, but they were easily the most risqué underwear she’d ever owned. His reaction was well worth the mid-day shopping trip and the phone call to Severide.

“Fuck.” He groaned, making it seem like two long syllables. Then she sort of yelped, but she hoped in a sexy way, as he grabbed her hips and nearly threw her knees over his shoulder as he practically dove down to run his teeth and tongue all along her skin just above the top of the underwear. Oh, fuck, he dragged his tongue up to her belly button, then back down, and then he was treating the bottom hem of her underwear much the same, with tongue and teeth tracing the edge, little growls coming from him every few seconds that maybe should’ve sounded ridiculous but instead made her so fucking wet, she was sure she had never been this ready for sex in her life. His mouth was on her pussy then, over the underwear, just for a few moments before he pulled it to the side and his mouth was there and his tongue was oh-so- _there_ , and she yelped again, pulling at his hair hard enough that it had to have hurt.  
“Matt, stop.” He went dead still, like completely poleaxed still, except his eyes met hers.

“Sorry, what did I do wrong-“  
“No, I just don’t.”  
“Don’t what?” He was clearly confused and a little impatient, but nonetheless had not moved a muscle beyond those necessary to speak since she’d told him to stop.

“That.” She nodded in his direction, or the direction of what he was doing at least. “I don’t like your mouth there.”  
“Shit. Sorry.” Matt backed away from her with incredible speed, hands held up as if to surrender or pledge no harm at least.

“Nearby is okay, just not like _in_ there.”

“Anything else I should know? Or do you want to stop entirely-“  
“Oh, fuck no – I’ve been looking forward to this for days now.”

“I thought you didn’t like to cuss.” He was smiling again though, looking less worried or defensive or both, whatever that look had been.

“Fuck is my favorite word, when I’m doing it.” She smiled up at him. She shimmied enough to remove her underwear, tossing them to join everything else wherever it landed. “And you, Matt Casey, are wearing too much clothes still.”  
“I don’t look as good splayed naked in that bed as you do, though.”  
“I disagree – I bet you look a lot better.” She replied, reaching up to tug the buttons of his jeans loose. God bless whoever invented button-fly jeans especially on worn-in jeans with looser holes so a good tug opened the whole damn thing. She used her grip on his jeans to pull him back closer to her, until he obediently sort of fell forward to lay on top of her again. He kissed her, and in typical jerk fashion, grabbed her wrists and held them over her head, rather than letting her hands dive into his pants, as they kissed for what felt like ages. He could hold both her arms down with one of his own hands, and his other was wandering between her tits, and then slid down her body to slip between her lips and rub at her clit. She couldn’t have stopped her body thrusting against that beautiful friction if she’d wanted to. A finger slipped inside her, then a second a moment later, and his fingers were fucking her, she was so wet, but this already felt so amazing she didn’t want to stop even for what had to be even better. He curled his fingers just right to hit her just right and she was sure she made some embarrassing faces and noises as she came wetly on his fingers, biting his lip as she did so because she had nothing else to grip him with and it was like she had to keep him right there however she could, she just latched onto him. His fingers never stopped moving but just slowed, easing her through the first orgasm, but not letting her entirely come down from it either. He pulled back from her mouth, and released her wrists, and maybe she should care about if she’d hurt his lip, but she was busy getting his jeans and underwear down his hips and off his ass as quickly as possible.

“Up. Off.” She directed, slapping his thigh to get him to shift his weight off his knees so she could finish removing his jeans. He laughed, but obediently kicked his jeans off his legs and then off the bed entirely. She kind of wanted to get just a good pervy look at him, but he was covering her body with his own again, kissing her again, and she could taste a hint of blood but mostly she felt his naked body against her naked body for the first time and almost was distracted enough to miss him grab something from the bedside table with outstretched fingers. Condom she realized. She slid a hand between their bodies, until she could wrap it around his erection. Well, mostly around, she realized with a start. Her fingers didn’t meet. She couldn’t see to tell exactly how thick he was, and she was too distracted at the moment to make any sort of guess, mostly by the sound he made as she moved her hand on his cock, and the fantastic feel of his smooth, hot skin sliding over the hard muscle beneath.

“Let me…” he trailed off, and she had a second to get a good look at him entirely naked, but he was quick putting the condom on, quick enough to be back on top of her and settled between her legs in what seemed like a second. She expected him to just line it up and fuck her, but instead he set his fingers to work again between her legs, three this time, and his mouth ranging rapid-fire between her mouth, her neck, and her nipples, his tongue leaving wet trails behind as he moved, and she was definitely building to an orgasm again, not the first time she’d come twice in a night but definitely the closest together she’d ever done it. She was so wet, and so wide open, she thought he maybe had four fingers in her, she’d be embarrassed by the sloshing sounds and the air sounds even worse except he seemed really turned on by it, mumbling a little about her being so hot and wet and then he was kissing her again and his fingers left her just as his tongue shoved into her mouth, and her hands grabbed his ass and his back, pulling him into her. Thank God he’d pulled back slightly and taken a breath as he pushed inside or she would’ve bitten his tongue instead of his lip (again).

“Ah!” She couldn’t help it: that hurt a little.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry.” Matt apologized, pulling out just a little, and kissing her again, his hands roaming and everything felt so good, and she starting moving her hips, wanting him deeper now, whatever twinge had passed, and she grabbed at him, hands and legs both wrapping around him, pulling him into her.

“Fuck me, Matt. Please.” He pushed deeper, another twinge, and she gasped, but held onto him tightly, “A little slower, but fuck me good, please.”  
“You’re so hot and tight, God, that’s so good, so fucking good.”  
“I’m so close again, just…up a little.” She encouraged, shifting her hips a little, and he shifted too, and he slipped a little deeper into her, and on his move out he dragged against that spot inside her and she threw her head back, gasping at the pleasure. Apparently words were not needed, he took that as his marching orders because he started hitting that same angle over and over and over and over and she felt like she was coming, coming, coming but it was still building too, and it might’ve been minutes it might have been an hour, she had no idea, it was just endless and amazing. Then he leaned forward while she arched back and he managed to catch her right nipple between his teeth and she flew over some sort of cliff, came hard on his cock, so hard she swore she saw stars for a moment, and she barely registered his reaction, she was so tied up in her own body’s sensations. She felt him pull out though, and she was still spacy when he kissed her, and slipped from the bed.

“Wha? Come back.” She half-called, and he reappeared from the bathroom a split second later. He was smiling broadly but lazily, and slipped into the bed beside her, pulling the sheet up over them both. He’d turned down his bed before she came over, she hadn’t even noticed before. Sort of presumptuous except they’d planned for this to be the sex night. His walk back to the bed had given her another chance to look at him naked, and he was fucking hot, and maybe she was just blissed out, but yeah, he looked pretty nicely endowed. Whatever, size didn’t matter nearly as much as whatever he’d just been able to do with it. If this was how drugs made you feel, no wonder people got addicted to this sort of high. Sex was always good, but that had been fantastic. So fantastic she was not motivated enough even by the too wet feeling between her legs to do anything other than roll over to practically lay on top of him. Normally she’d be up and wanting to clean up a little, but all she wanted right now was to lay right here with him.

“Can I stay?”  
“Sylvie.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “You can always stay with me, and any guy who did what I just did with you and didn’t let you stay never deserved a girl like you anyway.”  
“Trust me, no guy has done what you just did with me.” She kissed him firmly. “I just…didn’t know if you wanted Cruz and Otis to know we…you know, that I slept over.”  
“I want you to stay. I want to sleep with you, literally.” His hand came up to run through her hair, and gently guide her head to his shoulder. His voice was soft and slow. “Sex is one thing, but this…I love this part. So yeah, stay with me. Please.”

“A man who enjoys the cuddling openly?” She teased, her voice low and soft as she felt his breathing slow. “You can’t be real. Except,” she glanced up, confirming it, “you just fell asleep in like 5 seconds flat after sex.” She rolled her eyes a little, but snuggled in next to him, relaxing and letting her body seek out sleep as well. She left the light on, mostly because she didn’t actually want to get out of the bed, and it was early enough she didn’t think she was ready to sleep for the night, just maybe a little nap. Next to Matt, who probably smelled like sex, but right now she just thought he smelled amazing, and still kind of strongly of sawdust. Did he just roll around in a lumber store or something? It was a nice smell, though. She could definitely get used to sleeping with that smell, and his heat, and just _him_.


	9. Something You Like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I started this story thinking it'd be short. If brevity is the soul of wit, I must be soulless. It's starting to grow to encompass a lot more than just how these two initially get together. Everyone cool with that? Stories are a living thing, I tell you.

She woke up feeling…not refreshed like morning, but at least less tired and not ready to just roll over and go back to sleep. She glanced at his alarm clock on the bedside table. It was 9:30, no wonder she wasn’t really all that tired. She didn’t want to get up, though. She was comfy and warm, and so she shifted to cuddle closer to Matt. Okay, so really, she was now practically on top of him, his left thigh between her legs and her cheek on his left shoulder, with his arm wrapped around her lightly. She lay for a few moments, but couldn’t help tracing random patterns on his chest lightly. He had more hair than she expected, actually, not like too much hair, just more than you might think, probably because he’s blond so you had to be kinda close to see it. He didn’t look like one of those comic book characters with a perfect eight-pack drawn, but she could feel the solidness of muscle beneath the skin, and it was sexy as hell. She’d never really liked the guys who were like bodybuilder cut, but Matt’s balance of useful strength she could feel and looking…well, like he hadn’t been photoshopped he just was quite fit, she supposed was the way to put it, it was hot. She pressed even closer to him, her left hand starting to gently caress over his abdomen, gradually shifting the sheet lower. He shifted a little, and snuffled a little, which was kind of adorable, but didn’t seem to wake up. The lights were still on in the bedroom, and curiosity drove her to lift up the sheet, ducking her head under it so get a look at him – she hadn’t gotten to really see him naked naked (the angles had been off, or he’d been moving, or he’d been too close to her) yet. It looked…bigger than average, but not _that_ big. Her experience was not that extensive, but she wasn’t exactly an innocent either, and she’d seen a few penises on patients, too, so she figured she had enough info to conclude he was a bit above average. Not that his penis size changed or would ever change how she felt about him, but it sure felt big enough earlier that she was kind of surprised it wasn’t bigger. He shifted, and she popped her head back up, only to meet Matt’s open eyes and small smile.

“See something you like?”  
“I think I could end up very fond of it, yes.” She replied with an answering smile. “It’s only nine-thirty, we could have dessert.”  
“We could.” Matt agreed, but he kissed her instead of moving to get up and get dressed. Somehow, she ended up sitting astride him, her chest pressed to his as they kissed heavily. He pushed back gently on her shoulders, but she went with it, and sat up, letting the sheet fall away. It was a little daunting, letting him stare like this, but the look on his face and in his eyes actually made her feel sexy and more confident not judged. She might think maybe she wasn’t big enough, but his hands slid up her sides and cupped her breasts, caressing and squeezing lightly, and he shook his head just the tiniest bit.

“You have amazing tits. I mean, all of you is…fucking fantastic.” He breathed out, his hands not stopping or even slowing their appreciation of her chest. “But damn, your tits.”  
“You like them even without the nice red push-up bra?” She teased a little.

“Oh, you looked irresistible in that bra and the underwear, definitely want to see that again, but Syl, trust me – naked boobs is always better than boobs in a bra.” He smiled warmly at her. She wondered if he even noticed he’d called her ‘Syl’ instead of ‘Sylvie’. She liked it, it reminded her of how he was the only person to call Severide ‘Sev’ or even once just ‘Kel’ and being treated like Kelly Severide reinforced how much he loved her – just very differently than he loved Severide. She shifted back a little, and felt a definite growth in the penis that was now touching her butt. She raised her eyebrows.

“So, should we, uh... talk about anything before we do this again?” He asked.  
“Are we calling it a night?” She was confused for a second.

“No, I meant, literally do it again. Right now.” Matt clarified.

“You want to talk?”  
“Only if there’s anything else you need to tell me is a ‘hard no’ for you before we’re in the middle of something.” She remembered now and understood what he was getting at.

“It’s not a hard no.” She hedged. “I just…don’t like it.”  
“Yeah, that makes it a hard no, Sylvie.” Matt sighed, looking a little frustrated, which she never wanted to see when she was naked and sitting on his lower abs and his hands were on her boobs. This should be happy times only. He continued a moment later, “if you don’t like something, and you tell me that, it’s _always_ a hard no. I’m not going to try to push you, or convince you to do it and try it again or something – like I’m magically going to change your tastes or what feels good to you. I’d just prefer not to stumble across things and mess it up.”

“Oh, there was no messing up!” She reassured immediately. “That was…unbelievably good sex. Fantastic. Possibly best of my life on that second orgasm. Possibly. I’ll need more research to be certain.”  
“More research?” He was grinning again, and that face, and that dirty in his eyes, _that_ she very much liked and wanted to see again and again and again.

“Lots more research.” She declared firmly. “In fact, I’d say it calls for _extensive_ research.”  
“Seriously, nothing else I need to know?” He sounded a little rushed this time. She couldn’t think of anything else he was likely to try that she wouldn’t like. She shook her head. He sat up, his mouth latching on to a nipple, and she gasped at the sudden sharp sensation. He seemed content to just focus his mouth on her breasts for several minutes, and she completely unselfishly decided to let him do what he clearly wanted to do. She did reach around behind her body and wrap her fingers around his hardening dick, gently sliding her hand up and down his length. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but she could feel him hardening in her hand swiftly. She wanted to fuck him and being impatient, she shifted up and did her best to sort of blindly line him up quickly, and sat down on him – as she did so, his hands grabbed her waist and tried to stop her, just a second after she realized that was a bad idea.  
“Ah!” She yelped a little again. That had hurt again, but he kissed her, hard and long and tongues dueling and when he pulled back she’d mostly forgotten that bit of sting. She did remember something else, though. “Condom. Need a condom.”  
“Shit, bathroom.” He admitted, looking reluctant.

“Medicine cabinet? I’ll get it.”  
“Actually on the counter at the moment.” He admitted, looking a little embarrassed. “I only brought one in here earlier.”  
“Very short-sighted of you, Captain.” She teased, slipping from the bed to go into the bathroom. It was wonderfully clean for a guy’s bathroom, and not in that way that said he cleaned it for her visit, but like he kept it that clean. She went back into the bedroom quickly, gold foil package between two fingers and held aloft triumphantly. “Got it.”  
“I got it.” He pulled it from her fingers, but laid it aside on the bed. “Come here.”  
“No.” She protested as he pulled her to him, clearly trying to roll them so he was on top again. She wanted to be on top this time. “I want to ride you, Matt.”  
“Oh, I will definitely let you.” He grinned, but got her underneath him anyway. “But first, I wasn’t done with you.” His mouth roved over her chest again, and the fingers of his right hand slid down between her folds again. Two fingers slipped inside her, and yet his thumb (she guessed, she wasn’t exactly looking) was rubbing on her clit at the same time, and he started rubbing his fingers along the front of her pussy and she couldn’t help humping up and back into his fingers, chasing that fucking fantastic feeling.

“Matt, please, I want to fuck you. I want to ride you. I want to ride your dick.”  
“In a minute.” He replied basically into the left side of her neck, sounding a little strained, but he slipped a third finger into her, and kept up his motions. She fumbled around, finding the condom, and managing to tear open the packet. She kissed him, but at the same time, reached down to grab his cock, trying to get the condom on without breaking away from his mouth which meant doing it blind, but a few extra minutes with his dick in her hands was not something she was really going to complain about at this point. His hands left her pussy and the small of her back, and he literally once again pulled her hand away from his dick, and gently but firmly took the condom from her.

“I got it.” She was frustrated, and leaned forward to nip at his nearest nipple, her teeth scratching the surface of his chest but catching nicely on his nipple as she planned. He yelped, but also pushed his chest towards her, which hey, that seemed like he was the slightly kinky type, liked it a little rough and dirty. Perfect. She moved to do it again, but he must’ve finished putting the condom on (which she’d wanted to do) because they rolled again and she was on top, back where she wanted to be. He wasn’t entirely forgiven for taking over a minute ago, but maybe partly. She lined him up, looking down as best she could to do so, it was an awkward angle, and she paused for just a second. Oh. Yeah, take it a little slow, Sylvie. She eased down onto his cock, waiting for the pinch, when it came, she backed off and raised up a little, then back down a little farther than she’d been, and after several times (and tiny winces from little sharp hurts as he stretched her back out) she was settled and good to go. She braced her hands on his ribs at first until he offered his hands for a bit of balance as she rode him hard, not caring much what it looked like just chasing the sensations, what felt good to her and what was wringing all those noises from him. She leaned back a bit, her hands leaving his to go back behind her for better balance, resting on his thighs instead.

“That looks so fucking hot.” He groaned as he thrust up into her just as hard as she was pushing down against him. She found a spot, that spot, whatever, it felt like his dick was hitting _every_ spot, and she focused on repeating that exact angle and strike as fast as she could ride him. She was soaring, building towards orgasm, her eyes drifted shut and then she was flying higher and cresting the wave and crashing in the most amazing way, She had come down just long enough, mere seconds later, to open her eyes and see his face wracked as he exploded beneath her, inside her, well inside the condom but that was inside her. She gave him a minute, then slipped to the side, settling back into the bed. He was catching his breath, but he kissed her anyway, pulling her back mostly on top of him, but she was lying flat atop him now. She reached down, wanting to remove the condom which felt a little gross against her thigh actually. She pinched the tip, and tried to roll it up, but it barely moved.

“I got it.” He stepped in again, and she shot him a look. Was he not comfortable with her hand on his dick? Every time she touched it, he intervened in some way. He rolled from the bed, stepped into the bathroom (throwing the condom away, she figured) before he stuck his head back out into the bedroom. “Do you want to clean up a bit before dessert, or not bother just yet?”  
“Uh…I could use a shower, actually.” She felt sweaty and definitely a little overly wet down there. She also felt a little sore. It _had_ been a while for her, so she had to get back in shape so to speak, but he also looked a lot bigger during sex than he had when he was sleeping. She joined him in the bathroom, where he was cleaning himself up a bit. The not-so-romantic bits of sex, right? Cleaning up the bodily fluids. She didn’t want to stare, or rather she didn’t want him to see her staring, but he was so fucking hot standing there naked, and how did she have any horny left in her at this point? It made no sense. She stepped up behind him, wrapping arms around his waist and pressing her check against the hollow between his shoulder blades. “After I shower, dessert?”  
“Dessert. Then maybe…more of the same?”  
“Maybe.” She wasn’t opposed to more sex in the ideal, but that was going to depend on just how sore it turned out she was. Apparently rumors she’d heard about guys approaching forty starting to slow down may have been rather false. Or he wasn’t close enough to forty. “You may have worn me out for one night, Matt.”  
“Well, then, maybe dessert, some actual Netflix and chill, and to follow up on an earlier discussion, I’d really like it if you stayed the night. I guess I should’ve said that before you came over, so you’d pack a bag.” Matt turned around in her arms, the embrace somehow not sexual despite their recent activity and their nudity.

“Confession.” She admitted with a smile. “I brought my toothbrush and some other things over in my purse. That’s why it’s a bigger bag tonight. Call it wishful thinking.”  
“I prefer to call it knowing me well.” Matt grinned. “You can borrow any of my t-shirts, top right drawer, and boxers in the top left drawer, if you want. I’m going to go get dessert heating up gradually to melt the chocolate inside and find something on Netflix. Any requests?”  
“Uhm…nothing particular.” She tried to discretely catch a good look of him naked when they pulled apart, but he turned around quickly, which gave her a lovely view of his ass to be fair as he pulled his underwear and jeans back on from the pile on the floor beside his bed. She was sure he didn’t look that big, but he had earlier. There was some sort of visual trick going on or something. At least, it seemed, she was going to have plenty of chances to research it – if he ever stopped pulling her hands away. She got in the shower, ready to get cleaned up and then spend the rest of the night with Matt. No more sex though, she thought, as she stepped into the shower. She was really getting sore down there. Too much exercise after too little exercise. Plus, she liked spending time with Matt, even without sex. And she was really, perhaps to a silly level, looking forward to just sleeping next to him. He was so warm and kind and comfortable, not in a like ‘lived in’ way, just in the you feel completely safe with him way, and plus, he was a cuddler which was really attractive. So, quick shower, then back with Matt.


	10. HGTV and Chill

If she needed any more confirmation that she definitely loved this man, she had it when he not only had the desserts ready to go, he had poured them both a glass of cold milk to go with them (too perfect with chocolate cake) and had Fixer Upper set up to stream on the tv. Talk about a perfect way to spend the night. Well, if they weren’t going to just keep having sex, but her girl parts were telling her to call it a night, they were tired out. Instead, she settled in on the sofa with him, content to just spend time next to him like this.

“You know, I could see you being a lot like Chip.” She remarked, halfway into the second episode. She was cuddled into his side, his arm around her, and it was the best way she’d ever found to watch a show she enjoyed. Plus, his commentary on the houses both before and during renovations was a mix of insightful, interesting, and just plain funny.

“Really?” He chuckled. “I always thought I came across a little more grown up, or maybe just a little less goofy than he does.”  
“Depends on whether you’re out with Severide or not.” She teased, though she was also pretty right about it. The two of them together sometimes acted like they were still fourteen or so, except now they could legally drive and legally drink. “But no, I meant like, if you had your own construction company-“  
“If?”  
“You know what I mean, if it was your main job.”  
“I _am_ a licensed and bonded contractor. Technically I do that work usually four days a week, and CFD two or three days, so it sort of is my ‘main’ job.”

“You’re a firefighter first, Matt.” She challenged him to argue with her on that. He shrugged, and nodded, apparently content to admit that. She also was pretty sure he made a lot more money with the CFD than as a contractor. “So, I could see you being a lot like Chip – happiest building stuff that people are going to love and find useful, and really just wanting to make your wife and children as happy, healthy, and safe as you can, the focus on raising happy kids with a really sweet, happy marriage and both of you working together a lot.”  
“I hope so. Someday.” Matt sighed. “You know I’ve always wanted kids. Watching Chip and Jo with their four kids-“  
“Five now.”  
“Seriously? It’s like Herrmann and Cindy.” Matt chuckled a little. “Watching the scenes with their kids, yeah, I want that. Minus the farmhouse. I’m not really a farmhouse guy – or farm animal guy.”  
“You’re a Chicago guy.” Sylvie agreed. “I could never see you on a farm – I mean, visiting Fowlerton with me, sure, but not living there. I can’t see myself doing that either, not anymore.”  
“Anyway, given how much you like this show, I’ll take your comparison to Chip Gaines as a compliment.”  
“You should. I meant it that way.” She truly had. Matt was as good and kind and family-oriented as Chip seemed to be, except she knew that Matt was like that really and truly all the time, which while she figured Chip probably was, too, she didn’t actually know Chip Gaines. Except, there was one key difference, “you’re a lot better looking though.”  
“Chip’s on tv. He’s clearly more photogenic than I am. No one wants to put my face on national tv.”  
“Uh-huh. You’ve taken a scientific poll to confirm that?”  
“I don’t need to.” She could feel him shrug. “I’m not _that_ good-looking.”

“You shave every day. Do you not look in a mirror while you do it?” She was only partly joking.

“ _Severide_ is that good-looking.” Matt replied with a light laugh. “I’ve always sort of been the quirky friend, you know, for when the girl he wanted to go out with or talk to in the bar was with a friend. The friend got stuck with me.”

“I think it’s more that Kelly Severide is that good-looking and _knows_ it and uses it.” She laughed a little. She liked Kelly, as a friend of course, but she was happy to leave him and his particular brand of issues to Stella. She was probably going to have more than enough to tackle with Matt’s brand of issues. “You are a very handsome man, Matt Casey.”  
“I’m glad _you_ think so.” He turned to kiss her lightly. “Even if I think you’re a little crazy.”  
“We should probably go to bed after this episode.”  
“Is that an invitation to something?” Matt pitched his voice just a little lower, and damn, it was hot. Still, it had not been and was not going to be any invitation except to sleep.

“Just to sleep. You have to work tomorrow, don’t you? And anything else has to wait – parts of me are worn out from earlier. Important parts.”  
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

“No, just sore – it’s been a while for me.”  
“Me, too.” He pulled her tighter into his embrace. They watched several more minutes of the show before he spoke again.

“When do you want to tell everyone at 51? I have to tell Chief next shift. There’s some…supervisory stuff involved, with us being a couple now.”  
“You’re not going to get into trouble are you? You and Gabby were married-“  
“Yeah, no, with you being PIC, we’re closer to the same rank even, and I’m not technically your boss – I don’t write your performance evals or have the ability to bounce you from the house, basically nothing I could be using to leverage you into sleeping with me. Still, he needs to know. I figured we’d just confirm for everyone.”  
“I mean, yeah, Joe and Otis already know. So do Severide and Stella, and Foster.”  
“You told Foster?”  
“Of course. She’s been pushing me to ‘jump your bones’ for months.”  
“Really?” He wrinkled his nose a little. It was kind of adorable. “Why does Foster care about it? She barely knows us.”  
“She’s been on Ambo with me for over a year, Matt. We’re partners. Besides, I blamed her for me ending up in bed with you that first night, even if we didn’t have sex, we did sleep together the first time because she got me really drunk and you are a very sweet man who took me home.”  
“Any guy would’ve done the same.”   
“I’m not so sure – though maybe any guy at 51. You’re all pretty great guys.” Sylvie had to admit that much. “My point is that we might as well make it official. I mean, we’re both serious about this, and if we’re saying we’re a couple – officially boyfriend and girlfriend, though that makes us sound seventeen again, I think we owe honesty to our friends. Plus, we don’t want the ones who don’t know to find out by rumor, right?”  
“Let me tell Chief first, privately. Maybe after next shift, instead of at the start?”  
“That’s fine.” She paused, something else suddenly popping into her brain. “When do you start up at Avondale?”  
“The shift after next. Covering for Polanshek’s knee injury means I have to go up ASAP. Chief was only able to hold off and keep the floater up there this long because Sev has to have a relief this shift, part of shift anyway, he has some seminar at the Academy to do that couldn’t be scheduled for one of his off days.”  
“How come you never get recruited for any of that? He gives lots of classes and stuff, but you never do.”  
Matt laughed lightly, but eventually answered her questions, laughter still present in his voice, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Sylvie, but I’m not half as smart as Severide – this stuff’s natural to him, must be in the DNA he got from Benny. And it helps that his name is Severide, Benny’s reputation and all. Seriously, though, he’s _that_ good, and I’m not.” He paused for just a second, “and no one is ever giving an Academy class to a guy with my reputation downtown. My relationship with Gabby, while she was on Truck, was rumored – they couldn’t fire me for rumors, but…and there’s the fact my promotion was ‘meritorious’ rather than the traditional route, plus my foray into politics brought up a lot of old dirt, then there’s the incident when I was actually in the Academy.”  
“What incident?”  
“I may have laid out a classmate, who is now an officer with IAD, Ted Griffin. He filed a complaint, no one backed him up, hell, the instructors knew he got decked, he had a massive bruise on his face, but no one but him was willing to say I did it. Andy had my back on that, even if he and Sev chewed my ass later that night.”  
“You and Severide weren’t in the same class?”  
“No, he got called up with the first class after our applications were submitted – unsurprising, given the CFD says it’s done by random number, but he’s Benny Severide’s kid. Last name like that, it gets you noticed. I met him when Andy and I got stuck partnered up on a drill first day at the Academy and hit it off. He was already on a truck, trying to work his way onto Squad. He chewed me out for risking my career before it even got started – which I found out later was pretty rich, given he doesn’t always react calmly and rationally.”  
“You punched someone? Wow. He must’ve done something really mean. Did he hurt someone?”  
“Just my feelings.” Matt scoffed, as if that was unimportant. “I shouldn’t have punched him, but sometimes – I’m sure you’re shocked by this – I lose control of my temper a little bit. It was worse when I was younger. He was talking shit about my family. I lost it. But that’s why all the guys covered my ass.”  
“Because they liked you, and not someone who’d be that much of a jerk?”  
“He wasn’t the first person to make cracks about it, not even the first at the Academy. He was just the last.” Matt paused. “And the first one to be that crude. Last I knew, Griffin still hadn’t learned not to talk about anyone’s mother – it’s a good way to get punched. But anyway, I think my reputation as a bit of a hothead, combined with my age, and the fact that I haven’t taken all those advanced Squad classes like Sev has, I’m not exactly a fountain of specialized knowledge like he is. He’s good at it, too, the teaching. I’d still rather have an axe and a halligan, and just point me towards a fire.”

She let the conversation fall off there, switching her attention back to the episode, even if she’d seen it before. Then, she fell asleep on his shoulder, before the episode was finished. She didn’t notice, of course, until the room was quiet and she felt herself shifted as Matt picked her up. He was seriously going to carry her to bed like she was a toddler. She opened her eyes.

“I can walk.”  
“I like carrying you.” Matt smiled softly. Nonetheless, he set her feet on the floor but kept his arms around her. She stumbled a little as she started walking. “Got your balance? You look a little like Bambi on ice.”  
“I’m sleepy.” She protested. “But you don’t have to carry me, I don’t want you to hurt your shoulders or your back.”  
“It’s bruises and a few burns, Sylvie. It’s fine. I’m fine.”  
“You know since you say that no matter what happens to you – even when you were _shot_ you said that – I’m not sure I can trust you to be a good judge. So just be careful. Next shift I can still keep an eye on you, but…just promise me you’ll be careful when you’re up at Avondale. It makes me nervous having you away from both me and Severide.”  
“My babysitters, huh?” He teased, walking right behind her. His heat behind her might have been sexy, except she was too tired and too sore to even think about sex right now.   
“You _need_ minders. You run into danger all the time.”  
“So does he.” Matt laughed. “And you, come to think of it.”  
“ _You_ dove under a moving elevator just last year. That’s just one example of you being stupidly brave. So be brave, but not _stupidly_ brave. And you better be getting in this bed with me, I’m tired and I want to fall asleep on you. You’re warm and comfy and you smell nice.”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” She had actually gotten up to do just that between episodes of Fixer Upper, but he hadn’t. She _was_ a fan of personal hygiene.   
“Quickly.” She allowed after a short pause. “I’m very sleepy and impatient.”  
“You’re adorable.” Matt corrected, leaning down to kiss her softly. He was obedient, though, and back in just a few minutes, sliding into his bed next to her. She cuddled into him happily, and unless she mistook his hand stroking along her back and that kiss to the top of her head, he was just as happy to fall asleep with her as she was to be in his arms.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canonically Brett loves House Hunters, but I could see her and Casey together being more likely to watch a flipper/home improvement show. I picked Fixer Upper because something about the Gaines family seems like Brett would love them. Also, I completely without apology stole "I'm not that good-looking" from an episode of House MD. The first time I watched that episode my first reaction was how in hell could someone have that face and not know he had that face? Chicago Fire's ongoing ability to ignore that Jesse Spencer looks like Jesse Spencer looks and yet make a meal out of Taylor Kinney looking like he does amuses me, so I had to throw that in my story. 
> 
> This is not in any way meant to denigrate Taylor Kinney's hotness. I would never do that.


	11. Not-So-Secret Is Out

Matt was already at work when she got to shift on Wednesday morning. That wasn’t unusual, he often came in early to do paperwork or whatever else captains had to do. He hadn’t done it that often when he and Gabby were married, because they rarely brought two vehicles, but since she’d left, he’d worked longer hours. Right after she left, and again lately, he’d been picking up overtime shifts as well. This morning, he was in a meeting with Chief – she wondered if it was about more than just Matt letting him know about them. She knew Matt had been honest with her about his temporary reassignment, but something told her _he_ didn’t even know everything that was going on. It felt a little strange, knowing he was going to tell Chief about them on his own – he’d insisted on that, for some reason. They’d tell the group together, though.

Their plans to announce their relationship to the house at the end of shift was thwarted about 10 minutes into shift, just after the roll call meeting, when Foster opened her big mouth.

“How was your date with Captain Casey?”  
“Wait, you and _Casey_?” Herrmann asked, looking at her like she’d just done something completely shocking.

“Yes, me and Casey.” Sylvie responded.

“When the hell did this start?”

“Two dates ago. Last week.” She replied, wishing that Casey hadn’t already headed off to his quarters for more paperwork. Not that she couldn’t answer it all, of course she could, but she didn’t want him to think he was being…left out or something.

“Dating is a bit of an understatement.” Otis scoffed. “Given that you came home at lunch the next day.”  
“That is not the business of anyone else but me and Matt.” Sylvie nearly spat, unable to quite keep a handle on her temper. Otis had been unreasonable from the start of this, and she had no idea why, really. She wasn’t ashamed of dating, or sleeping with, Matt, but it was a little embarrassing to have it sort of dumped into the middle of the room like that.

“You got a problem with Brett dating, Otis?” Stella asked sharply.

“Not at all, except she’s dating the captain.”  
“Who is not my boss. He’s yours.”

“Come on, Otis, you have to have noticed the vibes between the two of them for months now.” Foster put in, rolling her eyes a little. “Plus, they’re the two most disgustingly good people any of us know – it’s like a match made in Boy and Girl Scout heaven.”

“I don’t know if that was a compliment, but I will take it.” Sylvie shot a look at her partner that was mostly amusement.

“What about Dawson?” Herrmann asked. “You were her best friend. He was her husband.”  
“Past tense, Herrmann.” Foster pointed out. “I know I didn’t know her, but she’s been gone a year. She walked out on all of you guys, and Casey, for…no reason anyone knows.”  
“Casey knows.” Otis pointed out. “He just won’t say. Won’t admit whatever he did to run her off, just like he’s run off every other woman who has ever been in his life. I don’t know if he cheated or worse, hit her, or-” No one had even seen Severide enter the common room but suddenly he had Otis pinned up against the wall and was in his face.

“You say that, or even think that, again and I will kick your ass.”  
“Woah, hey, Severide, back off.” Cruz moved to intervene.

“I’m serious, Otis. One word of that shit and we got a big problem.” Severide let go of Otis, but his whole body was so tense that Otis probably made a smart decision by not moving at all.   
“Look, Matt and I did not just decide to do this, okay?” Sylvie tried to explain, hoping to diffuse the situation. “We had some similar concerns, Herrmann. We just…I really care about him, and he feels the same way, and we’re…trying out some new dimensions to our relationship I guess. We were hoping for your support, guys.”  
“It’s just _strange_.” Herrmann replied. “Gotta admit, it’s always kinda felt like she’s just away, and coming back, and him moving on – with you or anyone serious I guess – makes it permanent.”

“It was already permanent.” Foster piped up again. “How much more permanent does it need to be? It’s been more than a year. She never calls, never visits-“  
“She calls once a week, still owns part of Molly’s.” Herrmann corrected. “She has since she left. She just only ever talks about Molly’s, not about…you know, her and Casey.”  
“I’m gonna guess telling everyone did not go to plan.” Matt’s voice came from the entrance to the common room. “And congratulations, Herrmann, Gabby speaks to you far more often than she ever did to me after she left – even _before_ she filed for divorce. As for the rest, yes, Sylvie and I are involved, get used to it, it’s not changing. Severide, Herrmann, Chief needs us for a meeting.” The officers all left the room, Severide shooting one more nasty look at Otis.

“All I’m saying,” Otis defended himself a moment later, “is that Casey’s track record as a partner is pretty crappy. I don’t think he’s good enough for you.”

“I think that’s my decision, and you’re wrong.”

“His wife left him, and he’s the one who isn’t good enough?” Foster shook her head. “I thought I had a handle on this whole ‘Saint Gabby Dawson’ thing this house has got going on, but I really don’t. Outsider perspective here: anyone shows back up at your house to inform you that they’re taking a job thousands of miles away, without caring about what you want or how you fit into their plan – they’re the one not good enough. She dumped him in a really crappy way, and it’s pretty crappy of you to think he has to like, honor her memory or something.”  
“He must’ve _done_ something.” Otis insisted. “Dawson was always crazy about him, then she just up and left, no warning, no notice, nothing? Like she was running away from something – _him_.”  
“I don’t need your permission, Otis.” Sylvie reminded him sharply. “You can deal with it, like I told you before, or I can move out, but I’m not going to be dictated to.”  
“Hey, hold on. No one is moving out.” Cruz stepped in again. “We all just need some time to adjust to the idea.”

“Well adjust in silence then.”

The rest of shift was awkward, at least, any time she had to interact with Otis or watch Otis interact with Casey. He was just shy of insubordinate, and Sylvie was kind of impressed that Matt’s temper was holding this long. She thought Otis was pretty lucky that Severide left at lunch and didn’t get back until after 7 pm, so he mostly missed Otis’s behavior. Mouch had occasionally looked like he was just watching and waiting for Matt to say something to Otis. As far as she could tell, he never did. Then, at the end of shift, Chief called them all together for another meeting. She had an idea what it was about, especially given Severide’s annoyed body language and the half-dirty looks he kept shooting at Matt. She was sure that Matt had told him before a few minutes ago about this transfer. Hadn’t he? Sometimes the two men communicated so poorly it was shocking. Once everyone was settled into the briefing room, Chief cleared his throat to call them to order.

“Alright, one quick announcement. Starting next shift, Captain Casey will be reporting to House 29, so all your requests and paperwork you’ve been sending through him, those come back to me now. We will have a floater lieutenant on Truck 81 for the foreseeable future.”  
“Wait, you’re leaving 51?” Cruz asked, sounding truly distressed. “Chief, is this about the thing with him and Brett, because-“  
“Captain Casey had informed me of his…change in relationship status before the start of shift. That is not related to this transfer, which was put through last week but not official until earlier this shift.” Chief reassured evenly.

“I’m not dying, guys, I’m just shifting houses for a few months, while Captain Polanshek’s knee heals up.” Casey explained. “He’s got at least 2 more months of rehab before he’s cleared to return to duty. CFD thinks this house can handle being without me better than 29 can handle being out a captain on second watch.”  
“Neither Casey nor I were asked about this, it was a departmental decision made by Commissioner Grissom himself I am told.” Chief commented.

“What if it works out too well?” Herrmann asked. “You gonna leave us, Casey?”  
“I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again – the CFD will be prying the keys to Truck 81 out of my cold dead hands when _I’m_ 81\. I have no intentions of going anywhere. Take it easy on my replacement, guys. Capp, I put in your 9-months-early request for the Fourth of July weekend already, leave Chief alone about it. Cruz, I already cleared your furlough to go to Florida to see Leon in December. Duty rosters are done up to the start of next year. Tony, your new turnout gear should arrive next shift – I checked everyone’s gear and yours was in rough condition. Otis, remind the relief lieutenant that 81 has to have its oil changed every 4 weeks or it gets tetchy. Kidd, don’t bother arguing that you get to drive – Otis drives even while I’m gone. And all of you keep Severide’s ass out of the hospital: he gets into trouble when I’m not around.”  
“ _I_ get into trouble?” Severide scoffed loudly. “You damn near invented stupid stunts – like jumping off of a building into the river – but I’m the one who ‘gets into trouble’. Just remember up in Avondale it’s not Squad 3 gonna be there to bail your ass out, so watch yourself.”  
“It’s gonna be weird not having you on 81. It’s been more than a decade with you in that seat nearly every shift.” Mouch admitted, coming up to shake Casey’s hand.

“Like I said, I’m not quitting, guys.” Matt smiled. “I should be back in 2 maybe 3 months, and I’m still gonna be at Molly’s and for a few weeks at least, still in Severide’s guest room.”  
“You’re moving out?” Sylvie couldn’t help asking, surprised at that information. That probably explained Severide’s mood more than the transfer, which surely Matt had told him about before today, but his plans to move out, that he’d have put off as late as he reasonably could.

“The arson trial finished up yesterday at lunch.” Matt confirmed. “Insurance is finally gonna process the paperwork and settle my claim – I can start looking for a new place: since I waited for the settlement, I can buy something again, not rent.”

“That’s great news!” Herrmann was genuinely pleased, she could tell. That was Herrmann though, through all the ups and downs of his friends’ lives, he was feeling the feels right along with them.

“Might take me a while to find the right place.”  
“No rush.” Severide reminded – it was clearly (from his tone) far from the first time he’d said that to Matt about this topic.

“That’s it for this shift, everybody. Go home, get some rest. Truck 81, be here a little early next shift so we can get in introductions with the new lieutenant before shift starts.” Boden dismissed them all, and Sylvie decided a moment of solidarity was called for and went to stand with Matt as he talked to everyone on shift, who pretty much all wanted to say goodbye apparently, even if it was just a temporary ‘we’ll still see you off shift’ sort of goodbye.


	12. A Bad Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the reviews and comments, guys. I rarely reply (generally figuring you'd all rather have more story than comment replies) but know that the comments do help inspire faster/more writing. I have no idea how long I may be in semi-quarantine and off work, and I know there are many of us in tenuous positions at the moment, so I hope this is a little bit of distraction for you all as well as it is for me. 
> 
> Please don't feel the need to blow smoke up my ass, but I wanted to say that I especially appreciate the kudos and comments because I was very nervous about writing for an audience again for the first time in several years: let's just say that one person (IRL, not any comments on stories I posted) managed to kill my belief in my writing skill for a long time. I'm having fun writing and it seems like you guys are having fun reading. So, anyway, thanks for that. I may not be a great writer, but at least I'm moderately entertaining and that's all I'm really going for here.

She and Matt had gone to Molly’s Thursday night with most of the house, and it had been fantastic to be able to be a couple openly. Otis was still being weird, in fact he’d ignored Matt both times he’d tried to order from him, but at least Herrmann had been his usual punctual self so it wasn’t too noticeable. In fact, she was pretty sure only she, Matt, and Severide had really noticed, well, and Herrmann. It hadn’t put a damper on the night, though, nor had it changed Matt’s demeanor at all. It was nice having his arm around her or his hand in hers nearly the entire night. He was incredibly tactile, she was learning, the type of guy who wants to have his hands on her a lot, not in a possessive or controlling way, just that he was physically affectionate naturally. If his hand also strayed to her butt some times, well, she didn’t mind all that much. She hadn’t gone home with him, or him with her, mostly because they’d quietly agreed it would be a bit awkward with the roommate situation as it was. She already missed sleeping next to him. Stella had invited her over for a sort of double date for Friday evening. She wasn’t that big a fan of the promised Blackhawks game, but she knew Matt was and she wanted to like what he liked.

She arrived at the loft just before six pm. She wasn’t early, so she was surprised that Matt wasn’t the one to open the door – Stella was.

“Where’s Matt?” Okay, she wasn’t even subtle in who she was totally here to see. No one expected her to be. She was friends with Stella and Severide, but she was much more interested in Matt. Stella did not look surprised or offended.

“Not back from work yet.” Stella replied with a shrug. “He texted Kelly. Hey, Kelly, did Casey say what the hold up is? Thought he was supposed to be done with the thing for Cindy by noon. Good thing we’re doing the cooking tonight, not him.”  
“Wait, he was working at Herrmann’s today?” Sylvie didn’t know that. She figured he was just out on a project, he had a lot of work right now it seemed. He said it was the fall rush, before the holidays.  
“Yeah – Cindy had some project she didn’t trust Herrmann on.” Stella replied. Severide had walked over, his facial expression making it clear that he was amused he’d been asked a question and then not allowed to answer it.

“He was fixing the deck on the back of the house for Herrmann this morning. Cindy pays in brownies, he’s always willing to help out.” Severide cleared that bit up first. “He finished up about lunch, but then got a call from one of his cousins up in Des Plaines, he ran up there to help out with some repair work she needed done.”

“I’ve never heard him mention any cousins.” Sylvie knew it was logical that he had them, especially since he’d mentioned an aunt, but that had sort of sounded like she wasn’t really his aunt, just someone he called ‘aunt’ but surely both of his parents hadn’t been only children, so it made sense, he just never mentioned any of his family except occasionally his sister and niece.

“You wouldn’t.” Severide scoffed. “They call him about once every other year, expect him to drop everything and go fix whatever they need, and I guarantee you, never think about him again until they need something again. Been telling him for years to tell ‘em to take a hike.”  
“Uh-huh.” Stella smiled at him. “You’re no good at telling people who need help ‘no’ either.”  
“I’d be good at it if they treated me like they treat him.”  
“Casey is a grown man, he can make his own decisions about how he spends his time.”  
“Not saying he can’t, just saying he makes _bad_ decisions.” Severide popped one of the cut carrots from the counter into his mouth. “Brett, you don’t have a bunch of family that are going to keep asking him to work for free, are you? His and Dawson’s do that enough.”  
“Yeah, last week he was working at some restaurant for a cousin or something of Dawson’s.” Sylvie remembered that. She still thought it was a little strange to call someone who was divorced from your cousin. “I have a few cousins, but they won’t call from Indiana. If we’re visiting Fowlerton, he might get put to work – I make no promises about that.”  
“God, El Muro again?” Severide rolled his eyes. “I think he’s done several thousand dollars’ worth of work there basically on the arm.”  
“I think it’s sweet of him. He doesn’t walk away from family.” Stella defended Casey.

“The ‘family’ walked away from him. At first, you know, I told him to work on the thing with Dawson, if he wanted it to work he had to make it work, long-distance even. He was all set to go visit Puerto Rico, when she showed back up and told him she was moving there permanently. Didn’t ask him, just _told_ him.” Severide shook his head. “Said he could go with her.”  
“Matt in Puerto Rico, permanently?” Sylvie asked, unable to picture that. “Does he speak _any_ Spanish?”

“About three words of it. Four if you count that ‘no’ is the same in both languages.” Severide scoffed again.  
“Better question.” Kidd had gone back to work on finishing up dinner. “Has Casey ever even been outside of Chicago?”  
“Yeah, a few places for short visits – New York, Detroit, Milwaukee, he and Andy went up to St. Paul with me to visit my mom a couple times when we were younger. He’s taken lots of fishing trips around the area. First time he ever flew anywhere though was when he went to visit Heather and the boys in Florida the first time: he goes every year now.”  
“Is that where he goes every spring?” Sylvie asked, having never known where he went, but in mid-March every year he left for about a week, sometimes ten days.

“Yeah – he goes down to help Heather with anything she needs help with, and to hang out with the boys. Griffin is seventeen now, Ben is fourteen. Hard to imagine it’s been that long.”  
“So, when can we expect him? I can delay this a bit longer.” Stella asked.

“He said about six thirty he’d be back.” Severide replied. “So you can start cooking.”

Matt had, in fact, arrived just before six thirty. He apologized profusely for being late, but Sylvie waved it off. He was being exactly the sort of man she loved him for being: he wasn’t going to say no to someone who called and asked him for help. He smelled mostly of sweat tonight, but she still took the opportunity to cuddle up with him to watch the Blackhawks. She didn’t know a lot about hockey, but it turned out he and Severide were more than willing to explain everything, complete with sometimes foul-mouthed summations of the skills of a player or referee. It was actually adorable, which was probably a sign she was completely smitten – she actually found his banter with Severide, broken as it was with shouting at the match, charming tonight. It was nice to see him more relaxed and with his friends like this, in his own home. By the time the match ended, it was late and she figured it was past time for her to go home. She said as much, but he grabbed her hand instead, pulling her to her feet from the sofa.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I have to be up early for the first day at 29 anyway, so if you get up with me you’ll have time to run back by your place before shift.”  
“Hmmm.” She pretended to think about it. “My cold bed alone, or with you, my own personal space heater? That’s a tough decision.”  
“Space heater?” He laughed lightly. “I’ve been called worse.”  
“What can I say? You’re hot.” She teased him, grabbing his belt loops and tugging him into a soft kiss. “If you don’t mind if I borrow a t-shirt and boxers, I think I’ll take you up on that.”  
“You could just sleep naked, I wouldn’t mind.” He whispered in her ear, causing her to blush a little.

“God, go be disgustingly cute somewhere else.” Severide joked. “You have a room, Case, use it.”  
“Alright, we’re going to bed.” Matt laughed, hands held up in surrender.

She didn’t take him up on the offer to sleep naked. They made out a little, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable having sex with Stella and Severide in the living room, ostensibly still awake, and they did have to be up early in the morning. Besides, it was nice being able to just sleep with him, no pressure for anything more, just curling up around him and falling asleep in his arms.

“Good morning.” She could get used to be woken up like this, a soft kiss and Matt’s voice, a hand rubbing her shoulder gently. It was a lot better than an annoying alarm clock. She was only half-awake, but she opened her eyes enough to see him. She grabbed him (not too hard) by the back of his head and pulled him into a much deeper kiss. In fact, she really wasn’t too pleased that he was sitting up on the side of the bed and not actually in the bed with her, so she shifted to be able to wrap both arms around his shoulders and pull him down on top of her. He caught himself, he must’ve, because he didn’t just drop onto her, but he did end up lying over her, which was what she wanted anyway.

“I can think of a couple ways to make this a _very_ good morning.” She whispered into his ear, then grabbed the lobe gently between her teeth, giving it a little tug. She felt him shudder, and when she shifted her attention to that spot where his jaw, ear, and neck met, his whole body arched into hers. That was definitely a spot she was going to remember.

“I’m not sure we have time-“  
“How quickly can you get it up?” She asked, her hands wandering down his body. His own hands, despite his minor protest, were clearly into the idea as well, given how much of her he was feeling up.

“About twenty seconds if your hand gets any lower.” He replied with a small chuckle. She obediently slid her hand down to rub over the bulge in his pants. He was already in his daily uniform, she realized, not that that was a bad thing. She thought he was pretty hot in his captain’s shirt.

“Make time.” She encouraged, then moving her mouth down to attack his neck. She licked and kissed and sucked, but after a sharp nip (which made him groan deliciously) he pulled back.

“Shit, you can’t leave a mark, Sylvie. I gotta go to work – and not 51.”  
“All the more reason for me to mark my territory.”  
“Feeling territorial?” He asked, and it was clear from his tone he thought it was hot. Good. She _was_ feeling possessive.

“Yes.” She admitted. She swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers. “I’m also feeling like I really want your dick in me. Right now.”

“Shit, condom.” He said, about a minute later after his boxers had been pulled from her and his pants were open just enough for his dick to be pulled out, and he had two fingers inside her pussy. It wasn’t the most romantic tryst she’d ever experienced, but fuck if she wasn’t hot as fuck from even this much with him.

“Grabbed one last night.” She reached for the bedside table, but he beat her to it. She decided she wouldn’t fuss about him putting it on himself this time – he was very quick and quick was good right now. “Fuck me, Matt. I want you in me.”  
“Just…a little more…” He spoke around kisses, slipping a third finger into her. She thrust against them, it felt good, but not as good as having him inside her.  
“Now. Please.”  
“Don’t want to hurt you.”  
“You won’t.” She paused, reconsidering for a second. “Just enough to keep me feeling it all shift. I want to feel you all shift, Matt. Make me remember having you inside me all day – until I can come back here and have you again.”  
“Definitely…the sexiest fucking menace.” He grunted, as he shifted to line up his dick with her pussy. He pushed inside, still slower than she would have liked, but there was that sharp pain again, a pinch or a tear or something, it made her wince and gasp. “Sorry, sorry,” He apologized immediately.  
“Keep going.” She encouraged. “It feels good, just a little tight at first.”  
“You’re not-“  
“Matt.” She said sharply enough to really get his attention, so his eyes met hers. “I said fuck me. I meant it. Fuck me.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, and obeyed. His fingers played at her clit and he bent so his teeth and lips played back and forth at her nipples after managing to ruck his t-shirt up over her boobs, and his attentions were helping bring her off quickly. She came just a moment before he buried his face into the crook of her neck and stuttering thrusts told her he was coming, too. After a few minutes to catch his breath, he pulled out and back, looking rumpled but like he could easily make himself presentable again. He kissed her softly.

“That was amazingly hot. But, you need to get up and showered if you want to leave for shift on time. I have to go – Sev made breakfast, wants to talk to me about something. You can eat first, then shower, if you want some breakfast.”  
“Uhm…I’ll eat first. I can always shower at the house if I have to.”  
“You can eat there, too.” He joked as she slipped from the bed, putting the boxers back on. The wet spots on the shirt were too obvious – she quickly swapped for another from his drawer.

“Yes, but there, I won’t get to say I’ve actually had Kelly Severide cook for me.”  
“True. He’s not bad at it – mostly simple stuff, though. He probably made pancakes. I love them and he’s acting like I’m leaving for a war or something. I’m still going to be living here for now, don’t know why he’s so worried.”  
“He likes being able to keep an eye on you.” Sylvie knew the answer to that, she figured everyone but Matt knew the answer to that. Kelly Severide was an overprotective, possessive, jealous, and incredibly affectionate man, in his own way. He might not call Matt his best friend, but he treated Matt just like a little brother most of the time (though how Matt, who outranked Severide and regularly was the more mature as well, was the ‘little brother’ she wasn’t sure – come to think of it, she didn’t even know for sure who was actually older).

“His job is more dangerous than mine.”  
“He loves you. He won’t say it, because you’re both boys, but he…I don’t think he could stand losing you, too. It scares him. So he’s protective.” She explained as they went out into the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, but only because Matt had told her he made breakfast, Severide was there, plating up a pretty nice breakfast. Stella was not there, maybe still in bed or in the shower or something. Matt laughed, pulling her into his side.

“Don’t think this is usual – normally breakfast is coffee, made by whoever is the first one up in the morning. Sev is just showing off for you.”  
“Fuck you.” Severide replied, but it was said very fondly. “You’re starting a new job, sort of.”  
“Same job – even taking over a truck company for Polanshek, not like I got moved to an engine or a tower ladder.” Matt chuckled. “You’re acting like I’m deploying with the Army.”

“Hey, man, just eat your breakfast.” Severide pushed a plate at Matt, then the second towards Sylvie.

“Thank you, Severide.”  
“You can call me Kelly, you know.” Severide chuckled. “Just because this idiot doesn’t-“  
“Oh, like you call me Matt except when you really need something – or I’m in the hospital. He brings me all sorts of good stuff, then, _and_ he remembers my name is Matt.” Matt told her, as if imparting some big secret.  
“The fact that you’ve been in the hospital enough for me to develop certain behaviors specifically for when you’re in the hospital should tell you to be more careful, dumbass.”

“I _am_ careful.” Matt defended around a mouthful of pancake.

“Just…be extra careful on this reassignment, okay?”  
“What’s got you so worried, Kel?” Matt asked, this time very serious.

“Grissom picked you for a reason, bud. I don’t know what it is, but he doesn’t just do things. He picked you, specifically, and I don’t like it.”  
“He said you kept talking me up as an upstanding guy – a real Eagle Scout, I guess.”  
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t wrong. You’re the most honest guy I know. I’m just concerned what he’s doing is gonna take advantage of that. So be careful. There’s something going on up there, or he wouldn’t be sending you, specifically you.”  
“You think I can’t handle a difficult crew?” Matt laughed. “I was twenty-six and handed the charge of Mouch, Herrmann, Vargas, Darden, Curley, and Scrabble. _Andy_ was the only one on the truck that didn’t think I still belonged in kindergarten.”  
“Scrabble? Curley?” Sylvie asked, not recognizing the names. She’d heard a lot of stories about the guys who used to work at the house, but didn’t remember those two.

“Curley, god, he was ancient back then.” Matt laughed again. “He’d been at 51 since…hell, he responded to the Our Lady of the Angels fire, must’ve been 1957 or so he started. 51 was like three blocks over at the time, too – current lot was part of ABLA, I’m pretty sure.”

“What was ABLA?”  
“Projects.” Severide replied. “Not quite Cabrini Green but…you know, the sort of place a lady gets murdered in her own apartment by someone who came through her bathroom cupboard, while she was calling 911 – and they still didn’t find her body for like three days.”  
“And you people wonder why my parents aren’t always keen on me living in Chicago. Stories like that are banned from my parents hearing.”

“What the hell was Scrabble’s real name?” Matt asked. “It was Polish, but worse than Zvonecek for figuring out how to say it. Got nicknamed Scrabble because it had what seemed like every random letter in the alphabet.”  
“Hell if I can remember.” Severide shrugged. “He moved out to the ‘burbs less than a year after you came to 51. Curley retired within a few weeks – Casey chased him off.” Severide turned to inform her.

“I did not – he was pushing seventy I think, and had to retire. Cruz got his spot, except Vargas drove at first. Then Otis got Scrabble’s spot.”

“Has Mouch always been called Mouch?” Sylvie asked, having wondered that for years.

“Long enough half the CFD don’t know he has a real name.” Severide replied with a laugh.

“It’s on his _turnouts_.” Matt pointed out, also laughing. “No idea how long he’s had that nickname. Otis got his about two days in – no one wanted to yell Zvonocek across a fire ground.”  
“You could call him Brian.” Sylvie pointed out.

“And again, I remind you that I live with Casey, and he still calls me Severide. He called my dad ‘Benny’ and me Severide.”

“I gotta get going – thanks for breakfast, Sev. Sylvie, you’ll be alright to get home? Use whatever you want in the shower.” Matt stood up, dropping his plate into the dishwasher. “I’m supposed to be thirty minutes early to shift, let the chief up there give me the tour and everything before shift starts.”

“I’m serious, Matt. Be careful. Watch your back. I’m not gonna be there to do it.”  
“I’ll be careful, Kelly.” Matt promised. “You do the same – though at least I know Sylvie and Stella will keep you in line. And I’m still living here, man, you’ll see me two days out of three.”  
“You’ll tell me if you get into anything?”  
“Yes, Mother. I’ll be fine.” Matt rolled his eyes. He grabbed a bag he’d clearly already prepped, and dropped a kiss onto Sylvie’s lips. “Be careful on shift, I’ll see you…tomorrow for dinner?”  
“Come over to mine.”  
“You sure, with the thing with Otis-“  
“He and Lily will be out, but Joe and Chloe will probably join us for dinner. It’ll be fine.”  
“Okay. Bye.” He kissed her again, then was out the door. She looked at Severide, seeing a thoughtful and not entirely pleasant expression on his face.

“You got a bad feeling, don’t you?” She asked.

“Yep.” Severide nodded.

“Me too.”


	13. The New Normal

She resisted the urge to text Matt multiple times during their shift. She couldn’t even place why she was so nervous, she just was. She hoped it was just the adjustment to not having him in 51. He’d missed single shifts before, but still everyone was off their game just a little bit. She thought maybe it was just psychosomatic, because they knew he wasn’t just on a day’s furlough, he was gone for _months_. The floater lieutenant – Dvorak – seemed competent, but he had the personality of cardboard at least on first impressions, and he was about as plain looking as he was in personality. He was just bland, not unpleasant in any way. She felt a little bit bad for him though, because everyone on second watch were going to be comparing him to Casey all the time, like ‘Casey wouldn’t have done that’ or ‘Casey would’ve done it differently’. It was already happening, she’d heard a few grumblings of it. They all missed Matt already.

He really wasn’t that far away, about 15 minutes without bad traffic. She felt bad wishing for a major incident that would get them called to 29’s district, but she sort of wished it anyway. Severide’s mood didn’t help. He was edgy, and easily annoyed, and she had seen him literally bite his lip on at least two comments to the relief lieutenant while out on calls – no doubt, he was biting back his own version of ‘Casey wouldn’t do that’. At least Severide was now the senior lieutenant and in charge of any shared scene until a higher rank showed up, so the guy didn’t have to try to give orders to Squad. He barely took orders from Matt, let alone someone he clearly saw right now as simply “Not-Matt”. It was dinner before the shift slowed down enough for her to slip into the seat next to Severide, the opposite side of Stella, and finally ask what she’d wanted to ask.

“What’s bothering you? Is it the thing with Matt?”  
“I get why the brass wanted Casey up at 29, not this guy.” Severide remarked. “Dvorak’s had his bugles for 6 months, the other officers up there have each had theirs for less than a year, too. Polanshek was the only guy with any experience.”  
“That wouldn’t make you…this. You’re snippy.” She paused. “You’re worried.”  
“I put out a few feelers about 29.” Severide pitched his voice low. “They’ve had a ton of turnover since the new chief started 18 months ago – mostly there, but a bit higher than expected at the other houses in her district too.”  
“Her? Not a lot of female chiefs.” Stella remarked.

“Only two in Operations – out of 75.” Severide admitted. “I think that’s why Grissom wanted Casey up there.”  
“Matt said it was because Grissom said you said he was the most honest guy you knew.” Sylvie paused, thinking back over what she just said. “That was a lot of ‘he said’. Sorry.”  
“Not honest. I said he was the most upstanding and fairest.” Severide looked upset about it for some reason. She thought it was very sweet that he thought so highly of Matt, and she knew Matt appreciated it too even if the two men would never actually talk about it because apparently talking about feelings with another guy made your penis fall off or something. Severide stabbed his dinner more forcefully than necessary, and after swallowing the bite, continued, “I didn’t talk to him, but I know Griss. He wants to find out what’s causing the turnover as discretely as possible. Polanshek’s messed up knee gave him an opening to put a guy in he knows he can control.”  
“Control? Casey?” Stella scoffed. “I like the guy, but Casey’s the least likely officer I know to be ‘controlled’ by brass. Look how he was with Mullins, you remember that?”  
“Everyone remembers that.” Sylvie laughed.

“Exactly my point.” Severide said. “Only Casey is so damn honest and upstanding that he gets in Chief Mullins face – practically – and then ends up _promoted_ for doing the best thing, the right thing, regardless of the consequences, and then – months later – gets even _more_ in with Mullins for catching his fake signature when Hope forged it.”  
“You kinda say that like it’s a bad thing.” Sylvie remarked, not thinking Severide actually meant it that way, but he sounded a little critical.  
“Hey, I’m the first guy to say Case has earned every damned good thing he’s ever gotten, earned and then some. But that Eagle Scout streak, I always knew it’d get him in trouble. It did with Voight, it did with Pridgen,”

“No, that was sleeping with Pridgen’s ex-wife.” Sylvie couldn’t help pointing out. She’d never figured that out. It was not at all like Matt. She hadn’t known him that well at the time, but looking back, he wasn’t really the type for flings he picked up in a bar. It was like he didn't know what to do to 'move on' so he just took a page out of Severide's book instead of writing one for his own book. Or whatever.

“Didn’t help, but Pridgen was after him as soon as he stuck up for Otis.” Severide argued. “I’m saying, Grissom picked him because he needs someone up there he thinks will tell him the truth about whatever is going on.”

“You sure something’s going on?” Stella asked. “Could just be a buncha guys not liking how a new chief runs thing, especially a female chief.”  
“I think that’s exactly what Griss wants to know.” Severide nodded. “He trusts Casey not to be that kinda firefighter.”  
“Matt wouldn’t. He has no problem with female firefighters. He’d never tolerate any sort of harassment or treating anyone differently because of her sex.” Sylvie was absolutely certain of that.

“Gotta say, I agree.” Stella nodded. “Casey’s always been completely fair to every female who works at 51, no matter the position. He seems to have a thing for female paramedics, but…”  
“Hey!” Sylvie reached behind Severide to swat ineffectually at Stella’s shoulder.

“I’m not saying otherwise. I’m just worried Griss has dumped Casey in something more serious than old-fashioned sexism.” Severide paused, then admitted. “I don’t like him up there by himself with a bunch of rookies and guys who couldn’t hack it anywhere else.”  
“Casey can handle himself, Kelly.” Stella reminded. “He’s a tough son of a bitch, and he’s been doing his job a long time, he knows what he’s doing.”  
“He shouldn’t have to rely on just himself all the time.” Severide said, standing up and dropping his plate on the counter before heading towards his quarters. Stella met Sylvie’s eyes and shrugged.

“Kelly worries too much. Casey’s gonna be fine. It’s just…losing his dad and nearly losing Casey in that fire last year so close together, it bothered him a lot.” She paused. “I think it’s why he doesn’t want Casey to move out. If Kelly had his way, he’d keep everyone he loves under his close supervision at all times. He’s been pretty good with me and Casey both living there – he can check on us to his heart’s content, you know?”  
“Do you think if we got them both really, really drunk, they’d ever actually admit how much they love each other?” Sylvie asked with a chuckle.

“Nope.” Stella chuckled too. “They both know it, we both know it, everyone knows it, just don’t make them _talk_ about it.”

She wasn’t at all surprised to find Matt holding a bottle of wine and flowers when she opened the door. He was definitely the type of guy to observe that whole ‘never show up without a present for the hostess’ old rule. She kissed him softly before taking the flowers from him. They were beautiful, a lovely bright lavender color, not the classic red that she figured most men brought to a date.

“They’re beautiful, Matt. Thank you.” How he knew that lavender were her favorites she had no idea. She didn’t think she had ever mentioned around him that her grandmother had grown roses and that the lavender ones had always enchanted her when she was a girl. They still reminded her of those summers in the rose garden with her grandmother.

“I didn’t know what you were cooking, so I couldn’t really match the wine, but I know you like a merlot. I hope Chloe likes it as well. You said she and Cruz would probably join us for dinner.”  
“They are. Chloe would really like to get to know you a little better, and I think Joe is just…I don’t know, he seems happy for you.”  
“I think Otis is being difficult enough for everyone.”

“I don’t get that. He likes you. I know he does.”  
“He likes me as his boss. As the guy dating his friend, who used to be married to his other friend…I’m surprised more people haven’t been really awkward about it. Herrmann especially. He loves Gabby, always has.”  
“I know you guys won’t just say it to each other, but Herrmann…he loves you, Matt. And Cindy and the kids adore you, that has to help.” Sylvie laughed.

“Cindy just thinks I’m too _skinny_ and I need mothering. Which is funny, Herrmann isn't exactly Mouch. I don’t complain because she makes me brownies, and she makes the most fantastic brownies, I swear they’re laced with something.”

:You gotta be talking about Cindy.” Joe arrived in the living room, Chloe just behind him.

“See? Everyone at 51 knows immediately – the best brownies are Cindy Herrmann brownies.”  
“I wasn’t arguing the point, Matt.” Sylvie laughed again.

“Good to see you, Casey. Missed you at 51, man.” Joe and Matt did that manly clasp each other’s hand and sort of hug sort of chest bump thing.   
“It’s been one shift, Cruz.” Matt chuckled. He moved to gently hug and kiss Chloe on the cheek. “Hi, Chloe, it’s good to see you again.”

“Hi, Captain Casey.”  
“Please, call me Matt. Off shift, I’m not a captain, just Matt.”  
“Well, I will check dinner, Sylvie, if you want to get those beautiful flowers in water. The Bears game is about to start if you guys want to go sit down. We’ve got a little bit before dinner is ready.”  
“I can help with dinner-“  
“I have seen a firefighter try to cook.” Chloe cut him off. Joe started laughing lightly, clapping Matt on the shoulder.

“Chlo, trust me, this man can _cook_. You should hear Mouch rave about it when he cooks for the house.”

“Still, we got it – go watch football. Relax. It must’ve been tough, being at a new house yesterday.”  
“I’ll bring you a drink. Scotch, two fingers?” Sylvie asked, confirming what she was pretty sure was Matt’s preferred drink.

“A beer is fine, but yeah, I love scotch.” Matt headed towards the living room with Joe. Sylvie put the flowers in water in a vase, then poured Matt’s scotch. She didn’t know much about scotch, but the guy at the liquor store had assured her the 12-year-old Glenfiddich was good without costing ridiculous amounts of money.

“He brought you wine – nice wine – and flowers.” Chloe was grinning broadly. “You bought scotch, just for him. The both of you are completely over the moon for each other, aren’t you?”  
“I already knew I loved him as a friend. But adding this new dimension it’s been so fantastic so far. He’s a great guy.”  
“Joe’s always had good things to say, when Captain Casey comes up.”  
“He’s serious about you calling him ‘Matt’ by the way. The guys all call him ‘Casey’ but everyone’s wives and girlfriends just call him Matt.”  
“I've just heard him called Casey so much, it's weird to think of him as Matt. So, he’s nice, remembers to bring flowers, he’s got a good job, very stable, he’s pretty nice to look at if I can say so-“  
“I’d think you were lying if you didn’t.”

“So, how’s the sex?”  
“Chloe! I don’t ask you about…you and Joe.”  
“Because Joe is your roommate and friend and that would be awkward. I barely know Captain- _Matt_.” Chloe laughed lightly. “I can ask these types of questions. And by the blush in your cheeks, I know it’s good. Awesome! You guys are gonna be so great together, I can already tell.”

“I’m glad you and Joe are going to give him, us, a chance. Otis is being…so weird about it.”  
“Joe and I talked about that.” Chloe admitted. “I think Brian is just being protective, you know he sometimes over-reacts and gets really stubborn about things. He needs time to get used to it. I think he also took Dawson leaving really hard, harder than we knew, and he feels like maybe Dawson’s husband didn’t take it hard _enough_.”  
“I think Matt took it a lot harder than he’d ever tell anyone, even Severide. I remember him sitting on the back of the ambo, at that high-rise fire you were in, when you met Joe, it was not long after she came back just to tell him she was leaving permanently.” Sylvie paused, remembering how hurt and angry she had been, and the weird surprise that flowed through her when Matt had admitted he was angrier than she was, that he was hurt, too – his voice had been controlled but there was something in his eyes when he’d admitted he couldn’t have stopped Gabby, something that had stuck with her ever since, a sort of…tired acceptance, almost beaten down, and he’d still found a moment to try to comfort her. She felt bad, had ever since, that she’d been surprised he was hurt, that she’d been surprised his outward calm was a front. Sometimes, it scared her, that he hid all his negative emotions so well. “He looked so…he was angry, and hurt, and everything you’d expect from a man who’d just been left by his wife, a wife he still really loved, but it was sort of like he was wondering why he’d ever thought she wouldn’t treat him that way. It’s bothered me ever since.”  
“I’m not sure I understand.”  
“He said he couldn’t have stopped her, when I asked how he could just let her go.”  
“She’s always sounded like a very determined woman, in the stories I hear.”  
“Oh, she was. She never let anything stand in the way of getting what she decided she was going to get done.” Sylvie sighed, having realized one essential truth about Matt’s marriage a few months back. “That included her husband.”

“Did he _try_ to stand in the way?”  
“No, that’s not what I meant. She just never…really thought about him until _after_ she did something. It was always about what she wanted, what she decided, and he just got to come along for the ride of her life. I think, I mean, I know they had a fight before she left that first time, but I think he stood up for himself about something, tried to…make himself matter to her.”  
“I thought she was your best friend?”  
“I thought so, too.” Sylvie admitted. “I look back, though, and I wonder, I mean, he was so…sort of beaten down, sitting on the back of that ambo. Like he especially, but also like _I_ should’ve known better than to think he mattered enough for her to listen to anything he said.”  
“Wow. That sounds like…”  
“The worst part about all of it?” Sylvie sighed, knowing this was one of the biggest hurdles she was going to face in a relationship with Matt. “I think he was mad at himself for thinking he deserved better than whatever she decided to give him. I think he blames himself, because he wanted to matter to her as much as she mattered to him, and I think he thinks maybe he doesn’t deserve to _be_ loved as much as he loves, not really.”

“Well, if I know one thing about you, Sylvie – you won’t make the same mistakes she did, then. You’re an amazing, giving, loving person, exactly what it sounds like he needs, just the person to show him how much he’s loved.”

“I hope so.”  
  



	14. Halloween

Two weeks went by, the start of the holidays was approaching, and they were all adjusting to Matt working at a different station house. He never said much about the new house, mentioned a few of the guys on his truck, and the fact that no one seemed very friendly up there – not unfriendly, just distant – but when he told stories about his days it was usually about a call. Mostly, he asked them all for stories about 51. He seemed to take some delight and satisfaction from Severide’s tales of his replacement’s woes. Dvorak wasn’t a bad guy from what Sylvie could tell, but he was not it turned out all that prepared to deal with the particular quirks of House 51 or being a temporary but long-term replacement. He’d mentioned something about having the dashboard in 81 fixed (she hadn’t known it was ‘marked up’, she was never actually in 81) and Mouch had nearly blown a gasket. Mouch’s seat faced backwards, why the precise configuration and markings on the dashboard in front of the officer’s seat mattered to him Sylvie couldn’t figure, but Matt had looked proud of that, so she’d just laughed along with everyone else at Molly’s as the story was repeated. Dvorak kept assigning them the ‘wrong’ tasks on calls – he didn’t know whose strengths were what yet and tended to just go with nearest guy gets the task. Stella complained that he was biased against her because she was female, which caught Matt’s concern (and Kelly’s) but she didn’t have anything specific to cite. He never joined in or was brought into any of the jokes around the house. The poor guy must’ve heard ‘Casey does it this way’ at least twice a shift. He never socialized around the house, hadn’t yet come to Molly’s, and basically continued to be really bland. He also kept threatening to write them up for the language on the truck, apparently he didn’t like cussing. Matt had laughed long and loud about that, pointing out that his guys barely cussed at all, and the jokes rarely got that dirty since no one wanted to offend the lady present. Stella had smacked him pretty hard for that. No one disliked Dvorak, they just…missed Matt. And thought Dvorak was boring.

She spent as much time as she could with Matt, but he was pulling some long hours up at 29, which was short-handed on a couple shifts, and then he had a few construction projects going as well. They were all small, but there was always a new one waiting. He promised it would quiet down in a few weeks, about mid-November it got harder to get construction work in Chicago, but he seemed…not happy, quite, well, yes happy when they were together, but he never seemed happy to go up to 29 on the mornings she was around. He loved being a firefighter, it wasn’t the work he wasn’t happy with. So, yeah, she worried about him a lot. Still, he was his usual self at home, at least on the nights she saw him. They didn’t have sex often, just once in those two weeks, a result of one of the two of them either being exhausted from work or most of the time, her discomfort with having sex when any of his roommates were home and awake. They never stayed the night at hers. She hadn’t asked, but she thought he was uncomfortable with the idea of the ‘morning after’ with Otis and Cruz, both of whom technically reported to him. Plus, there was still a little bit of tension with Otis, though he was at least keeping his mouth shut. Still, as far as relationships went, she was happy and he was happy, and she had no intentions of letting go of him anytime soon.

For once, they had the night of Halloween off, and the next day as well. No one had to get up at 6 am to get ready for shift and they wouldn’t be the ones dealing with the shenanigans of Halloween night. Herrmann, Otis, and Stella had planned a massive Halloween event at Molly’s and everyone from second watch was going. Costumes were not required, and she had struck out entirely on getting Matt to ‘dress up’ for the holiday. He hadn’t been very enthusiastic about her ideas for a costume, either, mostly he just seemed to not understand the point. So, she’d gone with a ‘girl gang’ idea Foster had seen online somewhere and the three of them had all gone shopping together. That Stella got Severide involved just made it all the better. At least _he_ was willing to dress up for Halloween. They opted to all get ready at the loft, because it was sometimes easier to have someone else do your make-up, plus, the costumes were a bit involved. Stella and Emily ganged up on Severide for his make-up. It took a couple hours, but they were all ready by 7 pm so they could head to Molly’s and be there well before 8 when the event was supposed to start.

“Anyone heard from Casey?” Stella asked, as they all were getting ready to head out the door. They’d have to take two cars, but that wasn’t really a problem. Emily had driven herself over, and Sylvie had planned on riding with Matt, but arriving together would be more effective anyway.

“He’s probably running late, said he’d gotten a call.” Kelly shrugged. “Brett, didn’t he text you? He texted me earlier.”  
“Uh…I don’t know.” She checked her phone. “He did, I don’t know how I missed the alerts. He’s texted four times, in fact. He says he had an emergency call from Mrs. Danvers about a broken window-“  
“Tell ‘em to board it up like anyone else.” Foster rolled her eyes.

“Mrs. Danvers is 88 years old and lives alone.” Sylvie thought it was very sweet, and thought it was even more adorable how shy Matt was about it, “Matt always checks on her right away when she calls, even if he’s on shift he calls her right back as soon as he can. He’d never leave her with a broken window, even just overnight, if he could replace it.”

“He seriously drops everything? She like his grandmother or something?”  
“No, a client – one of his first, I think.” Sylvie wasn’t entirely clear on that part. “She’s been widowed the whole time he’s known her, I know that, and her kids live in like Florida and Arizona. She won’t move closer to them, her church and friends and everything are here. Anyway, he worries about her. He says he’s got the window, he just has to install it, but he’s going to need a shower so we should go ahead and he’ll join us at Molly’s.”

“Alright, well, he’ll have to wait to see you in that costume – his loss.” Emily shrugged. “Let’s go, we got a party to attend.”  
  


Molly’s was roaring by 9:30 – and Emily had (once again) succeeded in getting Sylvie pretty drunk. Stella was working, the staff were all busy, but Sylvie was hardly likely to get lonely with all of 51 there. Cindy had even made it, her parents had agreed to come watch the kids after trick-or-treat was over, and so had Chief and Donna. About half the people were dressed up, but everyone was having a great time. Where Otis had found this many old Halloween-themed songs, she had no idea, but it was fun and the themed cocktails were awesome, too. The ‘Zombie Bite’ cocktail tasted good, even the first one she’d had, not just this deep into her second. Which…she needed to slow down because those were strong despite the fruity flavors. She was sort of leaning on Severide, who didn’t seem to mind, especially since Stella had stopped for a minute to talk to him, so he had one of them on each arm. He was nice like that.

“This place is packed tonight.” She hadn’t even noticed Matt arrive until he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “And you were hard to recognize at first. I managed to recognize Severide through all that…crap you guys put on him.”  
“It’s costume make-up.” Stella replied smartly. “And _he_ is willing to get into the spirit of things.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t wear make-up.” Matt’s comment earned a middle finger from Severide, but both men were laughing. “So are you guys a set or something? You all look sort of…I don’t know, Ren Faire?”  
“Oh, oh, oh, wait, wait – Foster!” Sylvie shouted, waving at her partner who was several feet away which in Molly’s when it was this busy required shouting. “Matt has to see us as a set!”  
“Am I supposed to recognize the theme?” Matt asked, face adorably crinkled in obvious confusion, as Stella stood with Sylvie on one side and Emily on the other, and Severide slightly behind. Sylvie glanced across the group. They’d done a good job, it was pretty obvious who they were supposed to be. They’d gotten compliments most of the night.

“Captain, seriously, do you not…Hocus Pocus? The Sanderson sisters – and Billy Butcherson back there.” Stella looked confused now as well. “It’s a classic Halloween movie.”

“I must’ve missed it.” Matt shrugged, but looked a little apologetic.

“It’s like the best Disney Halloween movie, we are so watching it later tonight! I bet it’s on some channel.” Sylvie gushed.

“How have you missed Hocus Pocus?” Severide asked, shaking his head.

“Why are _you_ watching Disney movies?” Matt shot back, but he was smiling and clearly teasing.

“Hey, Casey, whatcha drinking?” Herrmann shouted, appearing on the other side of the bar.

“He wants one of those zombie things, and so do I!” Sylvie decided for him. “They’re _really_ good, Matt, I promise.”

“You heard the lady, Herrmann, I guess I want…whatever she’s having.” Matt’s chuckle felt wonderful, he was pressed so tight against her from the back she could feel his chuckling as much as hear it. “And Herrmann, anything on her tab is on my tab.”  
“You got it, Casey. Two Zombie Bites coming up.”  
“I might not recognize it, but I like your costume.” Matt said, his chin resting on her shoulder. He had to be stooping a little to manage that. She liked the feel of his breath on her collarbone and neck, and just the feel of him, practically curled around her back. Carefully tilting her head to try to see him without breaking the embrace, she then reached up and smacked him – just a little.

“Stop staring down the front of my costume!”

“You in that corset top thing, whatever they’re called…I’m gonna look.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “your tits always look great, but that top is pushing it into ‘too fantastic to believe’ territory. About all I can do to keep my hands, and mouth, off right now.”  
“Have _you_ been drinking already?” She asked, a little suspiciously. It was hot, but a little forward for Matt in a public place. Plus, she smelled something on his breath.

“Mmhmm. Figured you guys would already be well started by the time I got here, so I had a couple drinks at the apartment while I cleaned up.”  
“Oh, that’s – wait, did you drive here?”

“I called a cab.” Matt shook his head. “Figured we’ll do the same home. I’m sort of tired of being sober when you’re not – you get adorable but also really fucking sexy when you’re drunk and I’d like to be there with you.”  
“Oh, okay.”  
“Here you go, you two.” Herrmann slid two glasses towards them. “Tab’s open, Casey. She had two of those on her tab already.”  
“Thanks, Herrmann. They look…fruity.” Matt laughed, but took a drink.

“See, pretty good, huh?” Herrmann asked. “Selling like wildfire tonight – those and the Black Magic Margaritas and the glow-in-the-dark shots.”  
“Glow in the dark?” Matt laughed. “I think I’d be worried about what I’d piss out later. But yeah, it’s great, Herrmann.”

Herrmann continued down the bar, and Sylvie took a few deep drinks from her glass. It really was a great flavor, mostly pineapple and rum, which she liked a lot. She relaxed backwards into Matt, he was warm and safe and comfy. And he smelled fantastic, that fresh wood smell again, which made no sense, he’d showered before coming here, and while she liked the stuff he had in his shower, none of it smelled like wood this strongly.

“Do you just…have constant wood?” She asked, and Matt and Kelly both nearly did spit takes. Which made her laugh. They were so in sync, it was like a Stooges clip or something, she could see them in the mirror. Kelly was then laughing pretty hard next to her, while Matt was sort of blushing and sort of staring at her. She turned around to face him, as his arms had gone pretty loose. “What?”

“Hey, she does look great in that-“  
“Shut up, Severide.” Matt shot him a look. “I don’t think my ‘wood’ really needs to be brought up here, Sylvie.”  
“What? Oh, no, not…I didn’t mean, though…you kinda do.” She said, her hand having dropped to that part of him once it was suggested. Kelly laughed again, and made a big show of using his hand to block his view of them.

“Get a room, you two.”

“Your _hand on it_ has that effect.” Matt moved her hand while also kissing her, a little more than gently but not exactly obscenely either. “But I don’t think you meant to ask about whether or not I have ‘constant wood’ so try again.”  
“No, I didn’t, I meant, how do you always smell like sawdust and wood? I love it, don’t get me wrong, it’s really sexy,”  
“Do I need to send the two of you home already?” Kelly asked, still chuckling.

“Fine, we’ll talk about your wood later.” Sylvie mock sighed, trying to sound put out.

“Wow, Casey, Brett – this is a family establishment!” Cruz teased as he came up beside them, Chloe on his arm. They were both dressed up, though it looked like they’d just gone for a 1920s theme.

“No, it’s not. Hey, Cruz – good to see you, Chloe.” Matt was smiling though, and didn’t seem all embarrassed this time. She was just content to have his arm around her the whole time, no matter where they went in the bar, who they were talking to, he had her pulled in front of him or at his side. She also noticed that while he was definitely not sober, he was soberish enough to make sure she was now getting a glass of water instead of more alcohol, and he had Herrmann switch him to beer instead of those zombie things. He said they were too strong to keep drinking like that. He really did smell good, though. And she kept catching his eyes wandering to the amount of cleavage she had on display tonight, which was considerable, she had to admit.

“Matt, you’re vibrating.” She said, as she felt something vibrating against her butt, sort of close to feeling a little too good for a public place. She was sitting on his right leg at one of the tables, the place really was packed tonight. “I think it’s your phone.”  
“Crap, sorry.” He stood, putting her gently on her feet. He checked the screen for Caller ID. She could see it too, and knew he had to take the call. He sighed, kissed her softly, and addressed the whole group, which included Cindy, Donna, Chief, Lily, Chloe, Cruz, and even Trudy and Mouch. Kelly and Stella had disappeared into the back several minutes ago – no one was inclined to ask questions about that. “I gotta head outside and call back – hey, ladies, would you keep an eye on Sylvie for me?”  
“I’m fine, Matt. Okay, I’m kinda drunk, but I’ll be fine. It’s Molly’s.”  
“Just…”  
“We’ll keep an eye out, Matt.” Donna indulged him, smiling sweetly and kissing his cheek. He smiled, looking a little bashful, but headed outside, weaving through the crowd. Sylvie watched him go, unashamedly watching his ass. He’d put on a very nice pair of jeans that encased his butt and thighs beautifully well. Then she turned back to the group.

“It was his mom. He’s probably worried she needs something. He’s a worrier. Like I need someone to keep an eye on me in Molly’s. Or anywhere. I’m a grown woman.”  
“You’re also a little drunk, Sylvie.” Joe pointed out gently.

“So is he.” She retorted. “And he just went right outside, probably near an alley, by himself, and no one is like ‘keep an eye on Matt’ are they? No.”  
“Case went outside? Why?” Kelly asked, reappearing behind her right elbow.

“His mom called.” Cindy explained helpfully.

“Oh, well, in that case – don’t worry, Brett.” Kelly smiled broadly. “Mood he’s in when his mom calls this late, someone jumps him they’ll end up the one worse off.”

“It’s a holiday. She could just want to say ‘hi’.” Sylvie argued.

“His mother never just wants to say ‘hi’.” Kelly corrected her. “She wants something. Anyone else want another drink?”  
“I do – I’ll help carry. But first, the ladies room. Anyone else?”  
“Women and groups in the bathroom.” Mouch remarked. “I don’t understand it.”

No one else needed to go though, so she headed off alone to the ladies. She entertained a brief fantasy of running into Matt (even if she knew he was outside, not in the back) and doing the sort of things that she figured Stella and Severide had just been doing.   
  


She came out of the ladies room and practically ran into the back of a guy, okay she did run into him, but just a little. She smiled at him when he turned around, and started to apologize for bumping into him, when she realized he was staring at her cleavage now, too. Which with Matt was one thing, she kind of liked him paying attention to her boobs (she really liked it in private, but in public it could get awkward if he wasn’t subtle about it) but she had not worn this costume just to have pervy guys perving on her.

“Excuse me.” The hallway was a little narrow, and he was sort in the middle of it.

“My fault. Let me buy you a drink for that random stop in the middle of the hall.” He did let her pass, but now he was kinda following her out into the main room of Molly’s.

“It’s okay, it’s crowded tonight.” She didn’t want any of his apologies or drinks or anything. He wasn’t bad looking, he just was giving off a kind of pushy vibe she didn’t like. Plus, she was here with Matt. Not that she’d take the drink if Matt _wasn’t_ here. Probably not ever. Especially not when she had Matt at home.

“Well, then, just let me buy you another drink.”  
“No, thank you.”  
“Dressed like that, you wanted someone’s attention, but not mine?”  
“You know,” Cindy Herrmann appeared suddenly at Sylvie’s side, “if I were you, I’d go back to your friends. She’s not interested.”  
“Hey, I was just offering to buy her a drink.”  
“And I said no.” Sylvie pointed out. “And Matt is buying my drinks tonight.”  
“I bet I can do better than Matt.”  
“I bet you really can’t.” Sylvie giggled, her mind coming up with something really inappropriate all of a sudden. She was going to blame it on all the rum. She tried to imagine this guy – very normal looking – ‘doing better than Matt’ in the bedroom and it was funny. “He’s pretty amazing. And he’s hot. And he’s hung.”

“He’s also one of a dozen firefighters in this bar right now, one of whom is my husband and the bar’s owner, it’d be best if you just went on your way with her simple ‘no’.” Cindy managed, after throwing a slightly shocked look at Sylvie. Shit, she’d said that last bit out loud. She hadn’t actually meant to, but the image that came to mind was apparently provocative. And he was hung. She was pretty sure. He _felt_ hung. He didn’t always look it. She needed more research. She wanted more research. Where the hell was her hot boyfriend, anyway?

“Something going on?” Kelly asked, handing a beer over to Cindy. Sylvie glanced towards the bar, and saw Herrmann keeping a careful eye on them, too. Plus Otis also behind the bar. Checking the other way, Chief was looking this way, so was Mouch, and Cruz was standing up, and a table behind them both Capp and Tony were also standing. She felt…protected. Not that she needed it, but she had it.

“You Matt?” The guy asked. He must be drunk. No one reasonable squared off with Kelly with that tone of voice.

“It’s fine, Kelly, he just wanted to buy me a drink. I told him Matt was buying my drinks tonight.”  
“If you’re not this Matt guy, it’s not your business.”  
“Not Matt – just his friend, and hers. But tell you what,” Kelly leaned in a little closer, “you want to keep running your mouth, I’ll wait ‘til Matt does get over here and I’ll let him kick your ass.”  
“I’m not scared of this guy.”  
“You should be.” Kelly laughed a little.   
“I’m not scared.” The guy repeated. “But I am going to respect the lady’s ‘no thank you’.”  
“Good decision.” Kelly encouraged with a little nod. Once the guy headed off, he looked at Sylvie. “You okay?”  
“Yeah, Cindy had my back. He wasn’t mean or threatening, just stubborn.”  
“Alright, I’m gonna get the rest of the round. You want a beer or another one of those zombie things?”  
“What time is it?”  
“Uh, five after twelve.”

“Another zombie thing.” Sylvie replied happily. “Matt said no more zombies until after midnight.”

“Okay, I’ll bring it over to the table in a few minutes.”  
“Thanks, Kelly. You’re the best.” She kissed his cheek lightly. She and Cindy headed back towards their table, though Cindy smiled and shook her head at her as they went.

“You know, I don’t think you meant to say all that out loud back there.”  
“Oh, God.” She remembered again. “Matt is going to kill me. You didn’t need to hear that. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said it. I know why I _thought_ it, that guy could not possibly do better than Matt, not in any way.” Sylvie paused as they got back to the table. “I mean, has he seen Matt Casey? He’s a hottie.”  
“I’ve been saying that for years.” Cruz called, but he was laughing. It was nice that he seemed so genuinely happy for her and Matt. Everyone, except Otis, seemed genuinely happy for them. Even Otis had seemed better the last week or so. Maybe he was adjusting, like Joe said. Conversation shifted back to other topics, and Kelly brought her drink over to her. He ended up hanging out at the table behind her, talking to Tony and Capp, just as she got drawn into a conversation with the other women at the table about the flowers for Joe’s and Chloe’s wedding. They were debating identical or varied bouquets for the bridesmaids when Sylvie felt chilled arms wrapped around her from behind.

“You’re cold.” She protested, spinning on the stool to face him, kind of awkwardly because her legs forced him to step backwards.

“That’s not what she was saying earlier.” Chloe teased. “She was telling us all what a hottie you are.”  
“Seriously, Syl?” Matt half-groaned, but he was also chuckling, and blushing a little, she could tell even in this lighting. “How many more zombies have you ingested while I was gone?”  
“Just this one. I waited until after midnight, just like you said.”  
“Good.” He kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear. “I’d like you sober enough to carry through on the promise of that outfit later.”

“ _You_ should have another zombie.” She suggested. She leaned forward as well, lowering her voice so hopefully the whole table wouldn’t hear her. “I’d like you drunk enough to have my wicked way with you later.”  
“Even dead sober, that would not be a problem.” He replied with a smile. He announced to the table, though, “I’m going to get another drink myself – everyone good? I’m gonna tab out, too, Sylvie – I think that’s enough zombie drinks for one night.”  
“I’m kinda nursing this one.” She admitted, because it was true. She liked the drunk level she was at, she just wanted to maintain. He kissed her again, had he always been this affectionate? Then he was walking towards the bar and she couldn’t help it, his ass really did look nice in those jeans. He stopped at the bar, and as if sensing her stare, he turned and smiled at her, and damn it. “Sometimes I just want to throw him against a flat surface and do filthy things to him.”

“Oh, I remember that stage.” Cindy laughed lightly. “Remember this, Sylvie – someday you’ll just be an old married couple, if you’re lucky.”

“I said that out loud again, didn’t I?” Sylvie felt like banging her head against the table. “I’m sorry, that was so inappropriate to say out loud.”  
“It’s fine. We’ve all been there.” Donna reassured. “And Matt is a very handsome young man.”  
“Hey, now.”  
“Too young for me.” Donna kissed Chief lightly. “But not too young for me to admit he’s handsome. You’re all very handsome, especially in those dress blue uniforms.”  
“Hear, hear.” Lily cheered, and all the women toasted. Sylvie took a moment, drunk as she was, to drink in this feeling. Not the drunk feeling, the love feeling. All these people, these were her Chicago family. And even through all the tough times, it was so much better than she could’ve imagined when she was younger. Matt was behind her then – Herrmann must still be serving Casey as quickly as possible, wonderful guy that Herrmann – and she comfortably leaned back into him. Yep, this moment right here, this was a keeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos grease the creative wheels. The occasional comment literally helps shape the narrative. That said, no pressure. Some people struggle with what to say. I get it.


	15. Halloween Part II

Matt had decided it was time to call it a night about the time her hands kept slipping under his shirt, just wanting to find warm skin. She wasn’t cold, she just liked touching him. Okay, and kissing him, which she’d started doing a lot, too. No one really seemed to mind. They weren’t like heavy kisses, just…sort of like she was claiming him as hers in front of everyone at Molly’s every few minutes. He called a cab, said something to Kelly, and after she said a round of probably-too-loud goodbyes (but everyone she was pretty sure were all drunk, at least a little bit, not just her), he ushered her out the door. Their cab wasn’t there yet, and he allowed her to try to burrow into his side for warmth. Her right hand slipped under his shirt, sliding across his abs idly. He was so firm, fit and muscular, but the skin – when not covered in hair – was warm and soft and smooth, and the transition to his hairy bits was kind of a fascinating feeling. Her hand starting tracing that line of hair up the center of his abdomen, across his chest, then back down until stymied by his stupid belt buckle, holding his stupid belt, which was too tight for her to slip her hand between his skin and his pants and the stupid belt. So, logically, the only thing to do was get rid of the belt buckle. She was undoing it, had just managed it, when he (again with this) took her wrist and pulled her hand away.

“That’s our cab, Sylvie.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean I have to stop.” She let him guide her into the cab. She reached for his belt again, as he gave the cabbie his address.

“Sylvie, it’s like ten minutes to the loft.”  
“I want to touch you now.” She sighed, knowing he was going to be a fun-hater. She didn’t want to have sex in the back of a cab, she just wanted to keep following that happy trail. Was that sex? What was sex? Did it just include his dick inside her? She didn’t think so. She was thinking too hard. Time to stop that. So she decided screw it and straddled him, kissing him when he opened his mouth to either object or ask or whatever. Her dress was long and awkward, she was kneeling on it, she knew, and she hit her head on the roof of the cab while straddling him, but it was worth it to be really kissing him again. Their tongues tangled together, and she pressed as close to him as she could. She had no hope of finding his belt or much of anything else in the volume of her skirt in this position, but she had his mouth on hers and his hands on her, and his tongue on hers, and his breath was hers and she couldn’t remember ever wanting anything or anyone like she wanted this man right now. Time might as well have stood still. Matt was her whole existence right now.

“There’s a fifty dollar cleaning fee for any bodily fluids in the cab.”

“Well, that’s romantic.” She muttered, pulling away from Matt’s mouth. Thankfully, they were outside the correct building and Matt had apparently pre-paid on the app or whatever, because he was practically pushing her out of the cab and towards the door into the building. They got into the elevator without any incident, but apparently he was feeling much like she was because he pounced on her in the elevator, pinning her against the wall and his hands were loosening the top of the corset bodice, and his mouth was pretty much buried in her cleavage, which felt amazing, but then the doors opened on their floor and Matt pulled back, tugging her hand along to hustle them towards the apartment. One of the neighbors was in the hallway, and stared for a second, and she realized she was mostly hanging out the top now, about a half second away from a complete wardrobe malfunction moment, and she might have let out an ‘eep’ as Matt hauled her into the apartment and slammed the door behind them, then pinned her against it.

“Your tits in this top.” He muttered, his hands at the laces again and his mouth nipping and kissing at every inch he could find. She’d never really liked the word ‘tits’ she remembered vaguely, she’d kind of thought it sounded demeaning or something, but coming from him, in this sort of setting, it was hot as hell, and not at all demeaning. Normally she thought of him as quite handy with all sorts of things, but the lacing was undone and the top still wasn’t open and he was a little adorably frustrated. She pushed him back, just a touch, and undid the small hooks that held it together towards the bottom (probably as back-up for the laces or something), and the bodice just parted in the middle. He stared for just a second.

“Fuck.” Then he skimmed it off her, dropping it to the floor and his hands were now on her tits (he may have won her over to that word) and his mouth was back on hers, and yes, yes, they were walking backwards or she was backwards anyway. Somehow, her skirt fell to the floor and she just stepped over it, not really caring right at the moment. A few steps later, she paused, kicking off her shoes. They were in his bedroom a few steps later, practically fused together, with her just in her underwear now and him fully dressed still, which really she needed to fix because she liked him in those jeans, and that sweater, but out of them was definitely better. He took the hint when she tugged his shirt up, and obediently helped her get it off him. His hands were quicker on his belt this time than hers, but she took the seconds he paused to kick off his own shoes as an opportunity to pull open his jeans and start pushing both jeans and boxer-briefs down his legs. She pushed right down to his ankles, unashamed to hit her knees in front of him and help him take his jeans, underwear, and not to forget the socks, off. She kissed back up his right leg, pausing at a long scar on his thigh, but just for a moment. Maybe it was just that she was drunk enough now to have no filter, but she got to his dick and just sort of _stopped_.

“oh.” That was unexpected. “That’s…”  
“Shit.” Matt was blushing, and that look on his face, she didn’t even know what it was but she instinctively hated it, hated even more that he was moving his hands as if to hide himself from her which hello, not at all what she wanted. She, for once, grabbed _his_ wrists to stop him.

“I didn’t say it was bad, Matt.”  
“Your face-“  
“Okay, that was just surprised Sylvie.” She met his eyes firmly. She would never, ever, ever, ever, want him to feel like she didn’t want him exactly as he is, as exactly perfect as he had been made, but, while she knew it was a thing, she’d never actually…dealt with one. “I’ve never been with an uncircumcised guy, Matt. And you’re…you look really big from this close. Can I touch it?”  
“Uh, yeah, feel free.” He looked a little uncertain, but she thought that was just a bit of lingering shyness or she hoped not shame. The foreskin was still completely covering the head, even if he was pretty hard, she thought it was supposed to roll back automatically or something. She wrapped her hand around it, careful to be gentle, as she slid her hand and the skin moved with her hand, revealing then hiding the head of his dick from her sight. It was mesmerizing. And really hot, actually. She looked up at him.

“Can I-“  
“Sylvie, do whatever you want.” He looked amused and slightly chagrined.

“But aren’t guys with foreskins more sensitive or something?”  
“I’ve never not had it, so I don’t know.” He paused. “It’s not...dirty or anything, I promise.”  
“Huh?” Why would he even need to say that. Of course it wasn’t. It was just part of him. Not a public part, but just a part of him, no more inherently ‘dirty’ than any other part.

“That’s usually…you know, what women say when…if they’re not used to uncut.”  
“Well, they’re stupid.” She declared, leaning forward to kiss the head, then just went with it and ran her tongue across it, definitely not dirty, it just sort of tasted salty and a bit musky maybe, but just like Matt’s skin with a bit extra saltish. She tried to suck it into her mouth, to give him a blowjob to end all blowjobs just to prove how much she really did like it, even if she’d been a little surprised at first, except she couldn’t get it in without some serious teeth issues, which was no good. She was either a lot drunker than she’d thought or…maybe she just wasn’t good enough at this, or

“Sylvie, come here.” He pulled her up, and kissed her again, moving them towards the bed. She sniffled a little, sure she was ruining their night, and it had been so good before she messed it all up. He held her, kissing her softly multiple times. “Sylvie look at me.” She did. “It’s okay.”  
“But I can’t-“  
“I know.”  
“I should be able to-“  
“No, you shouldn’t.” He looked a little shy again. “I’m really fucking hard right now and no one I’ve ever been with has really managed it like this, okay? It’s okay.”

“No one?”  
“No one.”  
“So…you really are kinda big? It’s not just…I thought I was hallucinating or you were just that good, because it always seemed so big when we were having sex, but not that big when you’re just sleeping, I know they get bigger when hard but, it’s like, a lot bigger.”  
“Yes, Sylvie.” Matt was laughing a little, and blushing too. “I’m ‘kinda big’. It has some downsides, like never getting a completed blowjob and regular condoms are a pain in the ass – they’re super easy to break if you don’t put it on just right, hard to take off-”  
“Wait, is that why you always take it out of my hand? I thought you just didn’t like my hand on your dick!”  
“I _love_ having your hand on my dick.” Matt corrected, pushing her down onto the bed. “I just was an idiot, who hadn’t had to stock condoms regularly in…well, in years. So I had to use Severide’s brand. But that’s all fixed now, so, if it means that much to you, tonight, you can dress him up for duty.”  
“Okay, that is such a corny way to put that.” She laughed though.

“If I was sober, this would be pretty damned awkward and humiliating.”  
“Why?” She asked, maybe because she was drunk, too.

“Forget it. Let’s concentrate on what we were doing before you discovered my dark secret.”  
“Your big dick is not a dark secret. It’s a _great_ secret. It explains how it always feels like you’re hitting every spot at once and why sex is…so fantastic with you. I mean, our connection is important, but…damn. Plus, it’s really hot that I know this about you and no one else does, so everyone else gets to see that handsome face and be jealous but they don’t know the biggest thing to be jealous of.” She wrapped her hand around him again, or did her best to anyway, and then kissed him firmly. She jacked him off as they kissed, god, it felt so hard and smooth and soft all at once. His fingers slipped between her legs, quickly moving from one to two to three fingers because despite the slightly awkward interlude, she was still so fucking hot for him that there was little resistance and plenty of wet and she didn’t let go of his cock, even though she let her head fall back against the bed to just enjoy the feelings his fingers were wringing from her. She got impatient quickly though.

“I want you to fuck me, Matt.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”  
“I’m so wet for you right now, you can feel it, please, Matt. Please. I’ve been wanting to feel your dick in me for like 4 hours now. Please. Please fuck me.”  
“I’m gonna last like thirty seconds if you keep talking like that while I’m inside you – you’re so tight and hot and fucking perfect.” He kissed her again, moving up over her body and positioning himself between her legs. It took her a moment to realize he was also reaching up, a little clumsily, into the bedside table. A few moments later, a foil package, a type she’d never seen before exactly, was pressed into her hand. He pulled away from her mouth, whispering in her ear before continuing down to very pleasurably maul her neck and tits, “as promised, your turn to do it.”  
She tore open the packet, quickly retrieving the condom. It didn’t feel much different, just a different size. She wondered what had taken him this many weeks to get these, they sold condoms in pretty much every store.

“If you’re not going to-“ His hand moved to take it, and she snatched it away.

“Mine.” She kissed him again, sharply. She grabbed hold of his dick, moving to roll it down him.

“Skin it back.”  
“What?”  
“Condoms feel better on an uncut guy, or me at least, if you pull the foreskin back before you put it on.”  
“Oh.” There was always a learning curve, she supposed, with a new partner. And yes, if she wasn’t really drunk, this would’ve been awkward, maybe even uncomfortable, but with Matt and enough rum on board, it was somehow kinda hot to be paying so much attention to putting a condom on. She followed his direction, and felt sort of victorious once she’d gotten the condom on him to his apparent satisfaction. At least she didn’t have to think he was weird about her hand on him anymore. She paused, meeting his eyes and kissing him soundly again. “It’s really hot that you were just worried about the condom. I thought it was something about me.”  
“Nothing about you could ever be any sort of deterrent to having whatever part of you that you want on my dick.” Matt reassured with a smile. “But broken condoms are…not something for early in a relationship.”  
“It’s really sexy that you care. Seriously, it makes me want to fuck you so hard right now.” She admitted. “Well, that and the feeling of your really big, really hard, cock in my hand. So fuck me already, Matt.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, burying his face into her neck, he had a clear thing for her neck and collarbones, thankfully it felt amazing, and he gently pushed into her. She couldn’t help a bit of a wince, he really was fucking thick. He wasn’t gentle, exactly, but patient enough that even tonight, in what was quickly become a pretty fast and furious fuck, as she thrust back into him just as fast and hard as he was thrusting into her, that it didn’t really hurt, just twinge a bit at first, then it just felt fantastic. She just kept flying higher, then crashed over the waves and she was pretty sure she had been practically screaming his name on repeat for a few minutes, but now she just screamed, unable to help it, as she felt like her body was coming apart in the best possible ways. She forced her eyes to open again, as his thrusting stuttered a couple short moments later, and she watched his face as he came. God, he was even handsome as fuck when he was coming, no stupid-looking cum face for him, no, he looked hot and like he was surrendering completely to her, what she did to him, and that felt powerful and fucking amazing. He nearly collapsed next to her, the grace she’d observed in their earlier nights together absent. Maybe it was the zombie things. She felt a little wobbly still from them. She caught her breath, and listened to him doing the same.

“You as interested in undressing him as you were in dressing him?”  
“I’m too tired to move.” She told him. “I don’t even care about a glass of water. You fucked at least two drinks out of me, and now I just want to sleep.”  
“I don’t think that’s how alcohol and sex mix.” Matt chuckled. He rolled over, got out of the bed, and went into the bathroom. He was back a moment later, climbing back into the bed.

“You could keep a trashcan next to the bed. Then I wouldn’t have to give up even 60 seconds of cuddle time with you.”  
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She fell asleep easily, face buried in his neck where that smell of fresh wood was still very strong, and she had a quick random thought that she was never going to react to the smell of a lumberyard the same way again. Now it would always be tied in with Matt, and moments like these.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure notice: Matt's "little problem" is based on some over-sharing by a male friend of mine's experiences. Since I do not possess the anatomy myself, I am utilizing his story, inspired by the common (in every fandom) emphasis on the magical wonders of large penises ;) Apparently there are downsides and I wanted to inject some realism I suppose. Constructive criticism always welcome.


	16. An Idiot With a Saw

A week into November, she came back from a routine call with a frequent flyer to an oddly subdued common room. It wasn’t just that people were quiet, they were tense and quiet. She looked around, trying to take a quick mental roll, wondering if something had happened while they were gone. Severide wasn’t around, but he could be in his quarters doing paperwork, she hadn’t seen him checking gear on Squad. It had only been about thirty minutes total on the call, she figured, nothing too much should have happened since they clearly hadn’t gotten a call themselves.

“What’s up?” Foster asked, a few minutes into sitting in the room in that tense mostly silence, just the sound of whatever game Mouch was watching on tv.

“Severide got a call about ten minutes ago.” Cruz explained kind of quietly. “He headed to his quarters, we’re still waiting for him to tell us what’s going on, but it was April at Med. Something about Casey.”  
“Is he hurt?” Sylvie asked, a spike of panic rushing through her. “Severide is his emergency contact, his power of attorney too, I think. Is he okay?”  
“We don’t know.” Cruz admitted.  
“He sounded pissed, though.” Mouch added. “And calls from Med in the middle of shift aren’t usually good news.”  
“I officially _hate_ having him at another house.” Sylvie declared loudly. “At least when he gets hurt here I know what’s going on.”  
“Yep.” Otis agreed, surprisingly her a little. He’d still been a bit weird about her and Matt, though it was tapering off a lot. What he’d expected to happen she had never figured out, but as everyone got used to she and Matt being together, Otis was getting back to normal. Mostly.

“Has anyone gone to ask Severide what’s going on?” Foster asked.

“Nope.” Herrmann shook his head. “I didn’t get to be a firefighter this long by being stupid.”  
“How is that stupid?”  
“Whatever happens between Casey and Severide, getting between them two is like getting between two dueling wrecking balls. Dodge and weave all you like, you’re still getting smashed. Hard.” Herrmann replied, as if it was obvious. Sylvie didn’t even entirely follow his metaphor. She thought she agreed with his point, though. Stepping into the minefield between Matt and Kelly was always dangerous. There were a lot of explosive mines, and those mines usually had names: Shay, Darden, even Dawson, parents, all the awful emotional injuries that had never healed that the two men kept protected between them like dragons protecting a hoard. A hoard of shared or at least understood misery. Okay, her own metaphor was getting weird and complicated.

“Wouldn’t Chief know?”  
“His chief would know.” Mouch shook his head. “Our chief isn’t his chief right now.”

“So we just find out whenever?” Foster asked.

“Oh!” Sylvie jumped as her phone started ringing. She saw the caller ID. “Sooner than that! Hey, Matt, how are you? You’re not too badly hurt are you?”  
-Clearly you’ve heard.-

“April called Severide.”  
-I told her not to bother. I’m fine.-

“You say you’re fine pretty much no matter what. Is Dr. Halstead or someone around I can talk to, get the real picture?”

-It’s _stitches_ , Sylvie, I’m fine. Seriously, I’m fine.-

“Uh-huh. How _many_ stitches? Where are these stitches?”

-I’ll show you after shift- He injected as much innuendo into his voice as she thought it was humanly possible to shove into those words.

“Matt Casey.”  
-I didn’t ask for a count. Maybe 25 or so.-

“Twenty-five stitches?! What did you _do_?” She cut him off, accidentally.  
-Can you not tell the entire house? It was a training accident with one of the guys on my new truck. Not even on a fireground. Chief Gayan brought me in herself.-

“The medics didn’t take care of you? What the hell is going on in that house?”

-It’s fine. I’m fine. I called because I didn’t want you to worry.-

“Well, it’s not working. April called Severide for a reason.”

-Yeah, because she’s an old friend of his who cares more about letting him fuss and fret about nothing than about patient confidentiality.-

-That and to confirm that you’re going to have care at home. I know stubborn firefighters- April spoke into the phone, and Sylvie couldn’t help chuckling.

“Put April on the phone.”

-Syl-

“Nope, put her on.”

-Hey, Brett, how’s it going?-

“I don’t suppose he mentioned we’re dating now?”

-No, that did not come up. At least we don’t have to worry about wound care.-

“How bad is it, really?”

-About eight inches long, on his left side towards the back, just above the gluteus medius. Lots of stitches, no muscular damage. Needs to be careful with stretching and lifting for a few days. He’ll need help caring for it too, hard for him to reach.-

-Tell her I’m fine. It barely hurts.-

-That would be the painkillers on board.- April shot back, and Sylvie could hear her rolling her eyes at him.

“Does he need a ride, or someone to stay with him? I can-“

-Kelly said he’d pick him up in a half hour or so. Idiot wants to go back to the firehouse. Not with those meds on board. He can go back to 51, since there’s no one at his place, but no work. He has to rest. Doctor’s orders.-

-I’m fine, Sylvie. I promise.- Matt came back on the phone.

“I’ll decide that myself. You are not going to give anyone at Med any problems about it or you’re going to be in big trouble.”

-You gonna spank me if I do?-

“How many painkillers did they give you?” She had to laugh. It wasn’t that Matt wouldn’t say something like that, she just didn’t think he’d say it with April in the room and knowing she was at work. “And no, I don’t want to reward bad behavior. Just do what you’re told, mister.”

-I’m bringing paperwork. It’s a mess up there, I swear. Actually, I’ll see if Kelly will run me by 29 on the way.-

“That is not on the way from Med to here.”

-Eh, Sev will call me ‘Matt’ and do whatever I ask. I’m _hurt_.-

“Uh-huh, that or give you a swirly for scaring him. Don’t manipulate him because he’s worried. Get here where we can keep an eye on you.”

-I’ll see you later then. Love you.- He hung up before she could even respond. Not that she hadn’t known how he felt, how she felt, but the casualness of his statement was surprising. No big moment, the big ‘I love you’ moment, just…a normal statement. It was surprising at first. But then, she thought, no, it wasn’t. That’s how everything with Matt was, simple and uncomplicated and comfortable and honest and safe. She shook off her reaction, then realized everyone in the room was starting – with varying levels of discretion – at her.

“He had to get stitches, he got a long cut on his back, he sounds like usual Matt Casey. He says he’s fine, wants to go straight back to work, the mean medical professionals are saying he has to rest and he has to have someone with him for right now.”

“But he’s gonna be fine?” Cruz asked.

“He’ll be back on shift in a few days, and driving me, Stella, and Severide crazy until then, it sounds like.”

“Squad 3, we’re taking a ride by Med.” Severide swooped into the room to announce. “We’re out of service long enough to pick up Casey and bring him back here – had to wait for Squad 6 to be clear from a call to take us out. He can’t drive at the moment.”

“Why don’t we just drop him off at your place?” Cruz asked as they all headed out.

“Because he’s an _idiot_ who’ll end up working at a construction site if someone doesn’t actually make him rest.” Severide responded. Sylvie could tell from the amused looks around the room that everyone else also caught how hypocritical that complaint was, given that the only person just about as likely to utterly fail at resting and taking time off as Matt Casey was Kelly Severide. Neither one of them did confinement or rest well.

“I’m fine.” Matt wasn’t even fully inside the house before he had his hands raised in apparent surrender and he was announcing his fineness to them all. No one particularly believed him, maybe because he had on scrubs instead of his own clothes, which indicated he’d clearly had a problem. She moved towards him, leading the pack and determined to be the first one to check for herself that he was actually ‘fine’.

“He’s got 48 stitches in his back.” Severide announced, walking right behind him. “From a damned training accident with one of the idiots at 29. He could’ve killed you.”  
“It wasn’t that bad.”  
“You got sliced open by a _saw_!” Severide half-shouted in obvious frustration. “You’re damned lucky he didn’t slice deeper and kill you. And that chief is an idiot, too – you should’ve been transported properly by their medics.”

“What?” Sylvie knew she blanched, staring at Matt, who had protested all along that he was ‘fine’ but said nothing about a saw or anything and she was just starting to freak out when she felt arms around her, and her face pressed into a familiar juncture of shoulder and neck. He smelled like hospital, mostly, but underneath was that bit of wood-and-musk-and-Matt. It calmed her down, at least a little bit.

“The medics were out on a call, she decided it was faster to transport me in the buggy.” Matt explained softly. “I’m fine, okay, I’m down some blood, but they didn’t need to do a transfusion, it got packed quickly, I just had a lot of fluids dropped in by IV. I’m okay.”

“You need to sit down.” She said.

“No, I _need_ to hold you here for a bit until you’re ready to let go.”

“God, you two.” Foster complained, but it was very fond, you could tell. “Brett, he’s too sweet, I don’t know how you stand it.”

“I like him sweet.” Sylvie admitted, but then took a deep breath and gently stepped out of his hug. “What happened?”  
“Madsen was doing a practice overhaul drill, basically practice with the rotary saw. Polanshek hasn’t had them doing enough drills, clearly.” She caught a few knowing looks from the guys. Matt was notorious for his drills, and the worse mood he was in the more they drilled. No one complained too much, because as a busy house they didn’t have a lot of long days just drilling, and it always paid off on scenes, but Matt’s idea of enough drills was probably a good deal higher than most officers’. “He let the blade slip out of the wall, halfway dropped the damn thing, and ended up swiping sort of sideways with it. Clipped me.”  
“He clipped you with a saw? Why were you that close?”

“I wasn’t. He’s the clumsiest guy I’ve ever seen make it through the academy. Nearly fell about two steps to the side, and I _was_ trying to get out of the way.”  
“Which is why he got your back, not your front, and just ‘clipped’ you. Show her what ‘clipped’ looks like.” Severide still sounded really pissed.

“It’s not that bad.”  
“Yeah, well, you can’t see it, dumbass.” Severide pulled up the back of Matt’s scrub shirt, and gently (he was pissed, not mean or stupid) peeled back the dressing over the wound. It was about 8 inches long, but less deep than she had feared. Still, the stark line of dark sutures holding it closed looked gruesome enough. The wound was barely above the waist of his pants, which she figured would be about the height of a guy trying to regain control of a somehow runaway saw. Everyone had gathered around, and there was a chorus of sympathetic sounds.

“I’m fine. It’s a cut. We get them all the time.”  
“Not from a fucking idiot with a saw.” Severide replied sharply.

“Don’t you guys have something to do besides-“ Matt tried to divert them.

“Nope.” Herrmann shook his head. “Been a quiet shift, except for you getting hurt.”

“So, quiet shift, but you didn’t have time to stop by 29 and get the paperwork I need to-“ Matt asked Severide.  
“You have codeine on board, Case. You can’t work. Go hang out in my quarters. We’ll sort something out for tonight but for now, rest up there.”

“Come on, Matt.” Sylvie took his hand, gently pulling him after her. “Let’s get you settled in. I want to make sure you’re okay.”  
“I’m fine.” Matt replied, but obediently followed. “But if you really want to play nurse, who am I to say no?”

“Yeah, you’re not having any of that sort of fun for a while, Matt Casey, not until that wound is healing properly.” She shot back, causing laughter from the common room behind them and a theatrical groan from Matt. She maneuvered him into Severide’s quarters and down onto the bunk – sitting down was clearly not the most comfortable move for him right now.

“Lay on your side. Your good side.” He did so, and she was able to inspect the wound. Of course, the staff at Med had done a fine job with it, she just had to see for herself. “This could’ve been bad, Matt.”  
“It wasn’t. Not even that deep.” He sounded sort of sleepy.

“Go ahead and sleep. It’s good for you right now.”  
“Sleep with me.” He asked, grabbing her hand and tugging gently as she stood up to leave him to rest. “Not like that, I mean, sleep.”  
“Those bunks are not designed for two. And I don’t want to bump you or anything.”  
“So, be little spoon. You’re on the opposite side of me from the wound. I sleep better with you.”  
“You’re pulling out the big guns now. Look at those eyes.” He had the most amazing ability to make his blue eyes do something mesmerizing, the biggest bluest ‘puppy dog eyes’ she’d ever seen. He looked like a little boy in some ways, and it was adorable. “Fine, but your hands wander or you try anything even remotely tiring and I am going to be very mad at you.”

“You’ll probably get a call in the next few minutes anyway. I just prefer to fall asleep with you than without.”

She couldn’t disagree with that sentiment, not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "idiot with a saw" is taken from a story my father once told about how a guy at one of their insured's work sites actually got injured. I adapted it slightly, hopefully in a way that is still realistic. You can't make up the sorts of stories that my dad (in insurance) and my mom (a hospital nurse) regularly saw at work. You just can't. So I steal them from time to time.


	17. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I think I've ever written, by word count at least. I almost chopped it in half, but then it just seemed to interrupt the flow too much so you got one large chapter. Don't expect later chapters to be nearly this long.

She knew Matt was overworked and unhappy up at House 29. She knew it not because he said anything but because he was working a ton of overtime trying to sort out paperwork and set up drills and basically run the house, and because he rarely talked about anything from shift. No one could get much out of him except the occasional very basic recounting of a call they went on. No stories from the house, no jokes he’d heard in the truck, nothing. He got quieter, less likely to talk about anything. They hadn’t ‘gone out’ anywhere but Molly’s in weeks, and while she greatly enjoyed the nights he cooked for her, she sort of missed going out once in a while to a place where they weren’t surrounded by a dozen of their friends. She didn’t say anything though, because those nights at Molly’s were the times he seemed happiest, with the Blackhawks or the Bears or Notre Dame or the Bulls or whoever on the televisions and his friends from 51 around, chatting about the season or filling him in on calls they’d had, and the way he’d hold her against him kind of tightly on those nights, like he was worried she was going to leave. She had no plans to go anywhere. He was as affectionate as ever and the fact that he sent flowers to her at the house twice now (the second bouquet perfectly timed for when the other had started to wilt, and she left them at the house because that was where she missed him) was incredibly sweet and attractive. He cooked for her and he cuddled like no one’s business when she stayed over. The sex was still fantastic, and he wasn’t even awkward anymore over her continuing fascination with watching him get hard – the first time she’d asked to watch him jack off he’d gone about four shades of red, but gone along with it readily enough, and he’d been a little weird about her blowing him but regularly taking it out of her mouth just to look at it, but she was amazed every time at how he went from a-bit-above-average to too-thick-to-fit-in-her-mouth. The fact that she was incredibly turned on by it seemed to have been his tipping point into wholehearted acceptance of her little kink. Relationship-wise, they were doing great, he just seemed a little unhappy in general.

Then, in mid-November (just about the time his stitches were finally fully out, though he’d ignored all orders to rest after day 3, gone back to both jobs, and pulled several already) he’d texted her in the middle of shift just after dinner and told her they had ‘plans’ for dinner the next night. He’d pick her up at 5:30, please wear a dress. She was curious, but didn’t ask too many questions. A little mystery, as they’d already established, could be fun. In fact, since it put her in mind of that night, she wore that same underwear again. It had been lucky the first time, she’d take the chance on it being lucky again. She broke out a sexy-but-not-too-sexy navy blue dress, and some cute shoes, and was outside the building when he pulled up, or rather, when he got out of a very nice car service vehicle. It wasn’t a limousine, but it was a very nice sedan with a liveried driver. Matt was in a suit, though no tie, and she thought he looked amazing.

“You look so beautiful.” He kissed her gently. “And I think maybe…you’re wearing my favorite underneath that dress.”  
“Maybe. And you, mister, you look very handsome in that suit.”  
“We have a reservation.” He took her arm, and led her to the car, where the driver was holding open the door for her. She slid inside, and waited until they were on their way before asking anything further.

“Matt, is there…are we celebrating something?”  
“Yes, we are. It’s…kind of a silly tradition I guess, but” he shrugged, “I always treat myself to something really nice on my birthday.”  
“It’s your birthday? How did I not know your birthday? We’ve been friends for five years! How did I…I’m a horrible girlfriend!”  
“No, you’re not. You’re fantastic.” Matt kissed her softly. “Chief and Severide are probably the only people in the house who even know it’s my birthday.”

“Gabby never said anything, and I never even thought it was weird that we never celebrated your birthday. I was a horrible friend. Wait, the whole house is horrible friends.”  
“Sylvie, I mean it, I don’t want anything said or done at the house, I never did, I never will, I just…I don’t like a big fuss.”

“You’re always on board when we throw birthday parties and stuff.” She was confused. Matt loved celebrations. He never missed a birthday party, anniversary party, or anything like that, not for anyone. He did all the holidays and all the graduations and every milestone for everyone’s kids and siblings and spouses. He showed up if there was any way he could, even if all he could was stop by briefly. She knew it was part of why the wives and girlfriends all adored him – he took his work family very literally as family. He took care of his guys like they were literally his brothers. It didn’t make sense that he suddenly didn’t like birthday parties.

“Those are for other people. I don’t like a fuss over me.” He shrugged again. Then he sighed. “My dad was a jerk, you know? I loved him, he was my dad, but he wasn’t a great family man. When I was nine, my mom wanted to have a birthday party for me. They’d had a big thirteenth birthday party for Christie earlier that fall, which Dad complained about paying for as well. I just remember him shouting at her that he wasn’t going to spend a bunch of money on something worthless.”  
“Oh, Matt.”  
“Yeah, looking back, he probably meant a ninth birthday was kind of a stupid thing to make a big deal out of, but at the time, I figured he meant me.” Matt shrugged again. “They fought about it a lot that fall and I told mom I didn’t ever want a birthday party, just for them to stop fighting. We never did my birthday after that, but they didn’t stop fighting.”  
“That is…really awful.” She didn’t know what to say. She knew Matt only let a very few people know anything about his childhood. He guarded it very carefully, even Kelly and Gabby probably knew only bits and pieces. She couldn’t help remembering her annual birthday parties as a child, rarely expensive sorts of parties but always something special to mark her getting older.

“So, now I throw myself a little…well, most years I treat myself to something. When I’m on shift, it usually gets skipped.”  
“Well, now I am especially grateful that I am, in fact, wearing ‘your favorite’ under this dress, and you can see it later tonight.” She kissed him, much more heavily than he’d kissed her thus far. “I’d already made a decision, but it feels…well, we’ll talk about that later.”  
“A decision?”  
“Oh, one I think you’ll like, Matt. It just requires some privacy. And a bed. And a lot less clothing.”  
“We could skip dinner.”

“Patience is a virtue.”  
“Sylvie, nothing about you in that dress, or the promise of you in that lingerie, makes me feel the least bit _virtuous_.” Matt laughed. “But, I have been looking forward to this steak for a while.”  
“Steak?”  
“It was a little last minute, but I was able to score a reservation at Gibsons. That okay with you?”  
“It’s _your_ birthday, Matt.” She smiled though. “But I love steak. I’ve never eaten at Gibsons, but I’ve heard it’s fantastic.”

Dinner had been beyond fantastic. The restaurant was beautiful, the service top-notch, and the steaks perfect. They split a giant piece of chocolate mousse pie. Her wine was phenomenal with the steak, perfectly paired by the staff (she hadn’t been sure what she wanted, so she’d asked, boy was that the right thing to do) and Matt had had two scotches. She’d felt…like her old dreams back in Fowlerton of being a princess or something, with people bringing her wonderful food and treating her like she was the most important guest, and a liveried driver, and a very handsome prince on her arm. She doubted he’d had the same daydreams, but she hoped he at least had the same feeling of a perfect evening out. She’d declined his invitation to find another drink after dinner, leaning forward to kiss him as the driver brought their car around.

“I’d rather go back to yours and get out of this dress, and these shoes. They’re cute, but…” She almost laughed, seeing that he was staring at her, rather than actually listening. “Matt.”  
“I’m sorry. Just you put the idea of you _out_ of the dress in my head, and,” he pulled her close, “now all I can think about is that red lingerie. Fire engine red. Coincidence?”  
“Maybe not.” She kissed him, and chased the smoky taste of his scotch into his mouth. She wasn’t much of a scotch drinker herself, but mixed with him and the steak and dessert, she found herself loving it. Matt pulled away, just as their driver emerged from the car to open the door for them. She could, but shouldn’t, get used to this sort of treatment. She slid into the car, and Matt right behind her. She wanted to be conscientious and put her seatbelt on, but then there was Matt in the other seat and she didn’t want a foot or more of space between them. Instead, she sat as close to him as possible, turned towards him, her legs half on his lap, so she could kiss from his lips across his jaw, then down his neck gradually, and back up to that spot where his ear and jaw and neck met, the one that made him gasp a little and tilt his head enough to give her even more access. His arms wrapped around her, holding her in her spot. She moved her head, ducking under his chin to drag her tongue and lips down his neck, until she nudged his collar aside enough to find the pulse point. Judging by the way he arched when she nipped there, then soothed it with her tongue, she should spend some time right there, so she did.

Once they arrived back at his building, they managed to walk like civilized humans into the building, remain appropriately behaved in the elevator, and all the way inside the apartment. Inside the apartment, though, he spun her into his arms and then his tongue was back in her mouth, and his hands were under her ass as he picked her up. The dress was a little tight for wrapping her legs around him, so she ended up trying to pull it up farther while he was holding her, which thank God he was so strong because she didn’t even feel the least bit like he might drop her no matter how much she wriggled, Finally, her legs could wrap around him, and she did, though their mouths never parted. He laid her on the bed before she even realized they’d moved through the apartment to his bedroom. Kissing him was like a parallel universe, like everything else disappeared, and he was the whole universe. His hands roved, and they felt fantastic, but a few moments later he pulled back, looking at her with some confusion in his eyes.

“I can’t find the zipper to your dress.”

“It’s right here.” She reached under her left arm. He wrinkled his nose a little bit. “What?”  
“Designers do weird things to women’s clothes.” He replied. “You’d never see a man’s shirt or suit with a zipper in the armpit.”  
“Well, some of us have to wear form-fitting things to look sexy. All _you_ need is those shoulders, Mr. Firefighter.”  
“How does a zipper there even help?”

“Loosens it so you can pull it over, or down.” She replied. She pushed him off her, he went easily on to his back on the bed, and she stood. It took a little shimmy, it always did in this dress, but she got the dress over her head which given how far she’d rucked it up already seemed easier than pulling it down. Matt was staring at her, once she’d set the dress aside and was looking back at him.

“That may be the hottest little…shimmy striptease ever accidentally given.” Matt was grinning broadly. “Come back to bed.”  
“Nope. Not until we get you down a few pieces of clothing yourself. Stand up.”  
“Woman wants me naked. Who am I to argue?” He laughed, standing up and peeling his jacket, then undid his belt. He kicked off his shoes, then stopped, looking at her. “Are you just gonna watch me?”  
“I like watching you do all sorts of things.” She admitted. “Leave your pants for now. Just take your shirt off. And your socks.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” He did so, tossing it in the general direction of the chair in the corner of the room. Sylvie was randomly reminded of Joe’s ‘door chair stuff’ except that Matt never had anything piled there, like he dropped things there when he came in late but always put it away the next day. She knelt in front of him, undoing the button and then the zipper of his pants, before opening them. She kissed him through his boxers, and felt his groan as well as the answering twitch of his dick. He wasn’t exactly hard yet, though headed that direction, which was what she’d been hoping for. She looked up at him, as she pushed his pants and then his underwear down his legs. She loved doing this for some reason. But she had something else she’d been wanting to try, well two things, but this one was first. She kissed her way up his cock, which was rapidly hardening. If she had to guess (she hadn’t exactly measured it) fully hard he was around seven inches long, and more than that around. Right now, he wasn’t there yet, and she could still suck him into her mouth. She’d found that she liked tonguing under his foreskin, before he or she had rolled it back, and more importantly, she’d learned that she loved the noises he made when she did it. She didn’t stick with his dick for long though, instead her mouth wandered to the base of his erection, then behind to lick down his balls. She’d never actually sucked on a guy’s balls before, but she wanted to try. It always looked hot in the porn she’d seen (she hadn’t watched a ton of it, but hey, the internet was there and sometimes she was curious about stuff). His balls were a little hairy, and she idly hoped nothing got stuck in her teeth, but the sound he made when she sucked his right ball into her mouth was indescribable. She tugged at it gently, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt him, and then switched to his left. His hands wove into her hair, which she took as his wordless form of approval. She traded back and forth for a few minutes, feeling his dick finish hardening next to her face. Then she backed away, and stood up. Just like he always did after she’d done anything like that for him, he pulled her into a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, and it was one of her favorite things he did. So many guys acted like they might get some weird sort of cooties from kissing a girl after she’d given him head, or maybe just too many guys Sylvie had known before. Matt had no such hang-ups. She moved them back towards the bed, breaking the kiss and dropping onto it she hoped gracefully. She shifted back so her head was on the pillows, and her legs spread pretty wide, inviting him between them. He took the hint, and practically fell onto her. She let him mouth at her boobs, but he made no move to actually remove her bra. After a few minutes, she guided his head up to hers. She kissed him briefly, then met his eyes.

“I want you to eat me out.” She’d thought of a couple ways to put that, and that was sadly the least awkward option she’d come up with.

“You…I thought you don’t do that.” He looked torn between his desire to do exactly that, immediately, and hesitance to do anything that might bother her.

“I know you like to do it. You have to stop yourself every time we have sex. Well, almost every time.” There had been a few quickies that wasn’t the case. Any time they had the time, he visibly started to head in that direction and then changed his mind.

“If you don’t like it, baby, I don’t want you to-“  
“I think, I might, with you.”  
“You think my tongue has magical powers to change if you like something? I’m flattered, but…”

“No, well, actually, maybe.” She smiled at him. “Your dick _is_ pretty magical, and your fingers, so why not your tongue? But seriously, Matt, I want to try it with _you_.”

“You’re sure? A hundred percent?”  
“I’m sure.” He grinned, happiness and horniness clearly blending into one right at the moment for him, and he slid his way down her body, his mouth and tongue leaving hot wet rapidly cooling trails down her body. He kissed along her underwear lines for a little while, then his mouth was on her pussy but with the fabric of her underwear still between his mouth and her body. He looked up at her, as his hands slid her underwear down her legs (or up, her legs were in the air), clearly checking with her once again. Was she okay with this? She’d been thinking about it for a few weeks now. Everything was so different with Matt. It was so safe. She didn’t have to be perfect or sexy or anything for him, just Sylvie. She nodded to his unspoken question.   
“I’m sure, Matt.” He grinned again, like a boy at Christmas, or maybe fittingly enough on his birthday, and kissed along her left thigh, then once again mouthed along the line of where her underwear had been, then wandered up nearly to her navel, then back down. She’d always kept herself trimmed neatly down there, but knowing she was thinking about this, she’d braved the possible embarrassment and gone in for some professional care. She couldn’t stand the idea of going fully hairless, but she had had her lips and that area waxed, leaving hair on the vulva so she looked like a grown-up still. He didn’t seem inclined to judge her choices at the moment. At the last minute, his mouth tracing the edge of her hairline, she grabbed hold of his hair, pulling hard. He stopped, looking up at her, with just a touch of disappointment in his eyes.   
“Just...maybe not your tongue fully inside me?” Just the idea of that made her feel too nervous and tense, too weird, to enjoy anything, and he smiled again, his eyes lighting up with something dirty.

“I can work with that,” Matt said. Then he kept his eyes on hers as he leaned in to lick her pussy lips, tongue as flat and broad as it could be. She shivered a little. It felt good, promising, but she was also nervous. She’d heard that it tasted funny, smelled weird too, and it had always made her so nervous that her guy would be completely disgusted by her that she couldn’t enjoy it. She knew she was too tense about it, she just couldn’t help feeling they were judging or something, and then the first few guys she was with either acted like it was gross or in Harrison’s case, flat said he wouldn’t do it because she was ‘cheesy’. Matt didn’t seem to find anything wrong so far, though he was still running his tongue over the outer parts at the moment. The fingers of his right hand got involved, and she felt herself tense up as she realized he was spreading her for him to really get his mouth down there. He stopped, moving to kiss the inside of her thigh.

“Babe, if you don’t want this-“  
“I do. I want to get past this.” She paused. “I trust you. Just if it’s awful, don’t make yourself-“  
“Awful?” He looked shocked for just a second, then rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. Idiot asshole former boyfriend said it was gross, or tasted bad?”  
“Uhm. Yes.”  
“Well, please refer to the idiot asshole part of that description.” Matt smiled at her. “Am I going to recommend an ice cream flavor after it? Probably not. You probably wouldn’t expect to walk into a candy shop and find ‘Matt’s dick’ as a flavor either, but do you hate having that in your mouth?”  
“No.” She laughed a little. “It’s you, and it’s…I don’t know, sexy and hot in the moment, and sometimes I see you across the bar or something and I just want to pin you against it and put your dick in my mouth, not for the flavor but for the feeling of it.”  
“Exactly the same thing.” He kissed her thigh again. “Trust me, Sylvie. I will love doing this. Relax and let me show you how much I want to do this. Trust me.”  
“I do trust you. Just-“  
“I remember. Surface-level for tonight. Trust me.” She nodded at him, and he kissed his way down her thigh, and she took a few deep breaths, consciously forcing herself to stay relaxed. He went back over the outer areas he’d already paid plenty of attention to, and then his fingers, then his mouth, then his tongue were on her most intimate places. It felt good, but not the sort of earth-shattering she’d heard Foster go on about, until he swiped right across her clit with his tongue and she couldn’t help her reaction, that felt like an electrical shock, but a good one. She kept her hands at her side, though, curling into the sheets and her lack of objection must’ve been what he was waiting for because then he was all over or it felt like he was all over, lips and teeth and tongue all over her pussy, but especially on her clit and she came in what felt like thirty seconds flat, but thirty seconds of some of the most intense fucking pleasure she’d ever experienced. She had about twenty breaths to catch her breath, and then he was nipping and sucking at her clit all over again, and she was flying again, not cumming but it felt like nearly there, but it just kept going and going, and building, and without warning she crested that wave and crashed down, her hips bucking as she came hard on his mouth, but he still didn’t stop, just slowed for a moment then was there again, and she swore it was like she just stayed on that wave, cresting and crashing, cresting and crashing, until she was sure her heart was going to burst and she tried to push his shoulders but ended up slapping him in the head and pushing his head away, but she was laughing because there was just nothing else to do. It wasn’t funny it was just…laughing. He slid up her body, and she was still laughing and shaking when he kissed her, and it took her a moment realize that taste was her. Maybe she should be grossed out by that, but she wasn’t. It tasted odd, but also really fucking sexy.

“Fuck me, Matt.” She encouraged, grabbing his ass and pulling his hips into hers as hard as she could. She could feel his cock against her, and all she wanted was him inside her, right now, one more run at that feeling because fuck knew his cock was going to make her come again, the way she was feeling right now a finger in her was likely to send her crashing again, let alone his cock, and she wanted it, wanted to see if it was more than what his mouth alone had delivered.

“Gotta get a condom.” He muttered into her ear, as she kept pulling him back to her when he tried to shift away. She let him escape for a moment, heard the drawer open and then slide shut, and she bit lightly at the nipple in front of her face.

“Fuck.” He cursed loudly, but he did hurry, which was what she wanted. She didn’t care that he put the condom on himself, it was faster and she wanted him in her. He slipped two fingers in, then a third, but she kissed him, shoving her tongue in his mouth and then managed to say,

“I’m so wet for you, just fuck me, Matt.”  
“Can you ride me?” He asked, and she suddenly couldn’t think of anything better. She nodded, and he rolled them, and she impaled herself on him without much thought. It hurt a little still, but it was also like a completion, and she was too impatient, she just started riding him as hard and as fast as she could, chasing that feeling again. His hands were on her hips, at least until the right moved so that he could rub her clit as she rode him, but his eyes only moved away from her tits to meet her eyes every once in a while, the rest of the time he was focused on her tits, still in that red push-up bra so all he could see was the top and the inner part bouncing in the confinement. She leaned forward, which gave him a better show but also put more pressure between her clit and his fingers, and it felt like an instant later she literally lost her mind. She had an out-of-body-experience or something, like a blackout, but the best sort where she came back into her body still atop him, moving slower but like on spinal reflex, every nerve singing and utterly exhausted in the best possible way. She slowed to a stop gradually, then slipped off him, collapsing onto the bed next to him.

“I need to take this condom off.” Matt whispered a moment later. “I’m not sure I can walk.”  
“My work here is done, then, birthday boy.”  
“My gift was perfect. Especially you letting me…trusting me enough for that.”  
“Do you really like eating me out?”  
“Do you really like giving me head?”  
“It seems like a weird thing to do. But I love it.”  
“Exactly how I feel. Except I don’t think it’s weird at all. I can make you feel like that, give you that, and that,” Matt tugged at her until she was lying curled into his side, half on top of him, “Sylvie, the power to do that for you, that makes me so damn proud and…I don’t even know, just feels fucking fantastic. And whoever didn’t love you enough to feel like that, that idiot asshole didn’t deserve the opportunity anyway.”  
“I am officially okay with you doing that again.”  
“Good, because now I’ve definitely got the taste for it.” He sighed, “Are you going to think I’m a disgusting guy if I just toss this on the floor until morning?”  
“Nope.” She kissed the pectoral muscle just in front of her. “I will think you’re a wonderful boyfriend who does not want to make me give up my warm, perfect whole-body pillow even for a few seconds after I just had the sort of orgasm that makes you reassess your life choices.”  
“Really? Reassess what?”  
“I should’ve jumped you at least six months earlier than I did. _That_ life choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally made up a birthday for Casey, I don't recall the show ever mentioning his birthday. He seems like a Scorpio to me, though so I ran with that. It also may come up in subsequent stories I'm plotting. That said, I "went back to work" this morning (e-work) so updates may slow down. That's good news though, means paychecks are coming in.


	18. I'll Like Him Well Enough

They had Thanksgiving off, but were on shift on ‘Black Friday’. Matt had told them all months ago not to ask for furlough that day unless they had a significant reason – it was a popular day off and the floater pool was minimal – and the paramedics had similar orders. She could’ve gone home, it was only about a three-and-half-hour drive to Fowlerton, but instead, her parents had decided to drive up to Chicago, though Leo was staying in Indianapolis. Mom had said she’d cook at their apartment, and any of her friends could join them. Chloe and Joe were spending the holiday with Chloe’s family, who were in town to help plan the wedding, and Lily and Otis were with her family for lunch and his family for dinner (wow, a lot of food, had been Sylvie’s thought), so that left Sylvie with a decision about whom to invite. Of course, she was going to invite Matt. The question was whether to invite _just_ Matt. She hadn’t really told her parents she was seeing Matt, yet. It had only been a month or so, and Mom always started practically planning a wedding the minute Sylvie said she was dating anyone. If she invited a few people, it would hopefully distract Mom a bit from interrogating Matt. She waited until they were in bed, pleasantly post-coital, to bring up the holiday. More for her own nerves than his. And yes, she was aware of how ridiculous it was to wait until Monday night to ask this.

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”  
“You mean the holiday that is two days away?” Matt asked, sounding amused. “Only if ‘spending the day with Sylvie’ is plans.”

“Oh, well, that’s good. Because my parents are coming into Chicago since I’m not going home and Leo is in Indianapolis with his girlfriend’s family. Mom is cooking and I was hoping you’d come even if my mother is going to interrogate you. I mean like Sergeant Voight levels of interrogate. I think. I haven’t actually seen him interrogate anyone.”  
“Sylvie.” He pulled back from their cuddling enough to meet her eyes. “Are you this nervous because you think your mother will scare me off, or because you think your mother will hate me?”  
“She’ll love you!” She hoped so, anyway. She couldn’t imagine what Mom could not love about Matt. He was handsome, he had a good job, he was kind and sweet, he liked kids and wanted a family, and he was a great boyfriend.  
“Babe, I survived Hallie’s parents – who did hate me – and Gabby’s parents, who…well, the Dawsons were just a lot, so I don’t think your mother will scare me off by asking a lot of questions. She loves you, she’s interested in your life; I think it’s nice.”

“Hallie’s parents didn’t like you?”  
“Her family generally didn’t. Her sister tried, I think. They didn’t consider me their sort of people.”  
“Okay, what does that mean?”  
“Her parents were pretty high-class people. They did not think a firefighter/contractor who barely got out of high school was good enough for their Ivy League-educated doctor daughter.”  
“That’s stupid. My parents always said money mattered less than how he treated me.”  
“Did they like Harrison?”  
“Not really.” She had to admit that, now. Maybe that had been a part of her deciding to run away rather than marry Harrison.

“Okay, then I can believe that.”

“Do you keep in touch with Hallie’s family? You two were together a pretty long time, weren’t you?”  
“Eight years.” Matt kissed the top of her head as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. “No, I haven’t heard from them since the Christmas after Hallie died. I sent a card to them, and Vivian – Hallie’s sister – to express again my condolences, I guess, and try to offer them, some comfort maybe, I don’t know, that I was missing her, too. Vivian sent one back, asking me not to contact them again.”  
“That seems rude.” He had done something kind and considerate, after all.   
“I think it was just too hard. I was the one to tell them about Hallie. Felt I owed it to her to tell them myself. I get it. I’m not sure I’d want to see the cops who told me about my dad again, you know?”

“Those cops didn’t know your dad, or you. You’d spent years with Hallie, they knew you. My mom is more likely to adopt you, though, and start calling just to fuss after you. Just so you know. She’ll ask a million questions about you and your family and your entire life.”  
“It’ll be fine, Sylvie.”  
“What if she asks about your parents? She will, she’s going to ask really nosey questions about your parents and grandparents and siblings and all the stuff she’d know about someone if I had stayed home and ended up with someone from there.”  
“Sylvie, I can handle it.” He laughed a little. “You might want to cover it ahead of time, though. It might be a bit of a mood-killer for a holiday to talk about my mom shooting my dad to death two days after Thanksgiving.”

“Oh my god, I did not know that anniversary was coming up too. I should know these things, Matt.”  
“Why?” He sounded genuinely baffled. “I’ve never mentioned it, so you’d have no reason to know it. It happened twenty-two years ago. You were eight years old. Wow, okay, that makes me feel like a pervy old man being here with you.”

“Yes, horribly old – you’re eight years older than me, Matt. Not even a full eight years.”

“If you want, you can come out to the cemetery with me on Saturday. I usually go, even on days I’m on shift, on the exact anniversary but this year, I’m not at 51. I don’t think Chief Gayan will be as lenient about me ducking out for a bit.”  
“I’d love to go with you.” She kissed his chest fondly. “I want to know this stuff, Matt. It’s important to you, to really knowing you, so it’s important to me.”  
“Will your parents know about the fact I used to be married to Gabby?”  
“Yeah.” Sylvie nodded. “I talked about Gabby a lot.”  
“I’m sure that’ll impress them.” Matt sighed. “Son of an abusive jerk and a murderer, and used to be married to your old partner. Add in the ‘barely got out of high school’ bit and I’m a helluva prize, huh?”

“You are the _grand_ prize.” Sylvie sat up a little, meeting his eyes and kissing him firmly. “I’m happy, and you are so fantastic to me, so my parents will be happy. Mom will worry about your job, but she worries about mine, so that’s nothing, really.”

She called her mother from shift the next day. It went about like she expected actually. Which meant that Mom was a combination of excited that she was dating anyone and frustrated by the fact she hadn’t said anything until the day before Mom and Dad were heading for Chicago. Mom asked three separate times if Matt had any favorite foods she needed to prepare for or any Thanksgiving traditions she had to account for and Sylvie had to admit she didn’t know about the traditions but she was pretty sure Matt would eat anything up to and including burnt macaroni and cheese. He might not like it, but he’d politely eat it. Then she’d answered all the obligatory questions about Matt – how old was he, where was he from, what did he do for a living – and then try to explain about how she was dating her ex-best friend’s ex-husband. Mom had been surprisingly cool about that, saying it made sense, she’d already liked him, and it had been a while since Gabby left. Dad was more circumspect, but then, Dad had already expressed his distrust of all those ‘city boys’. Both of them mostly ignored the fact that she had also invited Foster. Technically, she’d invited Stella, Severide, and Foster, but Severide’s mom was in town so Emily got to be the extra wheel (as she put it). It did at least keep it from being too much like a purely ‘meet the parents’ dinner. It was a holiday. It was supposed to be about communal thanksgiving, not torturing her boyfriend.

Matt had strongly insisted that he would give her all day Wednesday with her parents without his presence. He would meet them Thursday. He would not stay overnight. He would bring wine and flowers for her mother. He would be dressed up. He had a lot of rules apparently. He also did legitimately have work scheduled for Wednesday and she _had_ sprung her parents’ arrival on him pretty last minute. Plus, it gave her a chance to spend the afternoon and evening of their arrival telling them a few key things that she felt were best not explained on the phone. Which she was sort of cowardly enough to wait to do until the evening news was over.

“So, what time is Matt coming over tomorrow?” Mom asked, with a pretty good impression of casual indifference.

“He said about noon.” Sylvie reminded, they’d already talked this part out. “He has some work to do at his aunt’s house first thing in the morning, but he’ll be here by noon.”  
“Does the boy just constantly work? You said he worked today, and tomorrow is a holiday, and you’re both on shift on Friday. Does he have to work so many hours for some reason?”  
“Cathy, I don’t think a man with a strong work ethic is something to criticize.” Dad remarked.

“He’s doing a favor for his aunt. He does have two jobs, yes, but he just doesn’t do ‘time off’ very well. You should appreciate that, Dad, the farm was your second job and it’s at least as time-consuming as his construction company.” Sylvie knew most family farms these days were ‘side jobs’ for people. Her dad also worked, or used to work, at the Ball factory in Muncie.

“Like I said,” Dad shrugged, “I’m not criticizing a man for work ethic.”

“How do the two of you find time to get to know each other if he works so much?”  
“Mom, we both work together at the firehouse.” Sylvie almost laughed. “I see him for 24-hour-long shifts two or three times a week. We’ve known each other for five years. I don’t need to ‘get to know’ Matt – I already know him.”  
“I just worry, you know. I haven’t even seen a picture of him.”  
“Cathy, is what he looks like really important?” Dad sighed, but somehow, he always sounded so incredibly fond, even when exasperated. “Sylvie’s happy. He has a good job, two of them it seems, and he’s settled, responsible, and forgiving that whole ex-husband of her old partner thing, seems like a very acceptable young man. I don’t think his looks matter.”  
“I just don’t want to be surprised tomorrow, Chuck.”  
“By his looks? He has two eyes, a nose, a mouth, two arms, two legs, stop me when I’m wrong, Sylvie, probably some hair-“  
“Dad.” Sylvie cut him off, though she couldn’t help laughing. She pulled out her phone because that was easiest, and found a recent picture of Matt. He didn’t like having his picture taken, so he always had to be in a group, but Stella had gotten one good one of her and Matt at Halloween and sent it to her. She handed the phone to Mom. “That’s Matt. So you won’t be surprised.”  
“Oh. Well.” Mom gave her a knowing look. She handed the phone to Dad, who looked at it, grunted, and shook his head.

“I don’t like him.”  
“Two minutes ago you approved.” Sylvie sighed.

“He’s too handsome. He’s probably what do you call them these days, a player? And he was clearly too interested in your outfit that night.”  
“Dad!”

“Call it like I see it.” Dad shrugged.

“He is the opposite of a ‘player’, Dad. I can’t argue the ‘too handsome’ though.”

“Handsome men are trouble. Ask your mother. That’s why she married me. I was plain.”  
“You were not.” Mom swatted his shoulder lightly. “You were very dashing, once. Now, Matt, Sylvie. Tell me more about him. You said he’s from Chicago, is he missing his own family to come to Thanksgiving with us? What about Christmas, will you spend it with his family or can you come home this year?”  
“We haven’t talked about Christmas at all, Mom, honestly.” Sylvie truly had not thought that far in advance yet. Matt’s schedule with this reassignment was kind of all over, lots of overtime, and Christmas just hadn’t come up. They were sort of at a ‘let’s get through this week’ point right now. “His family is…sort of a sore spot, so don’t grill him tomorrow, either of you.”  
“Oh. Have his parents passed?” Mom asked.

“His dad died when he was sixteen.” Sylvie paused, but she supposed it was best to get it all out at once rather than come across later like she’d been hiding something. Mom was already making that ‘poor boy’ face. “Actually, his mom killed his dad, two days after Thanksgiving, which was less than two weeks after his sixteenth birthday. So his dad’s dead, and his mom spent fifteen years in prison for it, and is still on parole.”  
“Sylvie.” Dad managed, looking shocked and like he had a whole new bunch of reservations about this relationship she was in.   
“Matt is a fantastic guy, okay? Don’t judge him based on his parents; that would be so unfair. His dad was abusive, even after the divorce I guess, and his mom lost it one night and shot him. It has nothing to do with Matt, I just wanted you to know so you don’t grill him about his parents.”  
“A man from a family like that-“  
“Dad, he’s the kindest most genuinely good man you’ll ever meet. Just because his dad wasn’t, that’s not Matt’s fault. You can’t tar him with that brush. Before you ask, I know for a fact that his divorce was completely unrelated to anything ‘like that’ okay?”  
“Well. At least we know there won’t be much competition for family holidays.” Mom declared firmly. That was probably very important to her.

“Be careful, Sylvie, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Just wait until you meet him tomorrow, Dad. I know you’ll like him.”  
“As long as he makes you happy, I’ll like him well enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wholesale created Brett's family. I can't remember either her parents or her brother (who had one brief mention, iirc) being named on show, but if anyone knows canon names for them, please let me know so I can make the changes.


	19. Meeting the Parents

Matt showed up at just a few minutes after twelve o’clock on Thanksgiving. Foster wasn’t due to arrive for another couple hours or so – she’d wanted Matt to have _some_ time with just her parents, just not the whole day. She knew he was a little nervous, everyone was probably nervous meeting your partner’s parents. She was already nervous about the idea of meeting his mother, which he hadn’t even mentioned yet but would eventually have to happen. But Matt looked calm and incredibly handsome, dressed nicely but not too nicely – slacks and a collared shirt, but no tie – and he leaned in to kiss her softly.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Sylvie.”  
“It’s happier now.” She replied with a broad smile. Then she raised her voice. “Mom, stop pretending you’re not ready to pounce and just come over here.”

“You must be Matthew Casey.”  
“Mom, it’s just Matt.” Sylvie corrected quickly, knowing that Matt did not like being called by his full first name. She didn’t know why, Gabby had never said, but Gabby had definitely mentioned how much Matt did _not_ like being called ‘Matthew’.

“Hello, Mrs. Brett. Sylvie’s told us so many stories about Fowlerton, and the farm, I’m glad to get to meet you. I also took the chance that like your daughter, you enjoy both flowers and wine.”

“These are beautiful, Matt, thank you.” Mom accepted the flowers (Matt did well, too, Mom loved gerberas, loved the multitude of colors) but let Sylvie take the bottle of wine. She discretely checked the label, making sure Matt hadn’t gone crazy and gotten something too fancy. He wasn’t usually an extravagant guy, almost the opposite, but she knew he wanted to impress her parents. Matt caught her looking anyway.

“It’s a pinot noir, and yes, that’s an Australian wine. Not all good wine comes from France or California.”  
“I’m sure it will be wonderful.” Mom assured him politely. “Sylvie do you have a vase for these?”  
“Sure, under the sink actually, let me get it.”  
“Chuck, come meet Matt.” Mom called.   
“The game is starting.” Dad replied. “Tell him to come in here and bring me a beer.”  
“Dad.” Sylvie sighed, shaking her head.   
“I like him already.” Matt chuckled, kissing her cheek.

“He brought his own beer, from Indiana.” Sylvie sighed. “Because Chicago can’t have any good beer, apparently.”

“Oh, Matt, you don’t actually have to get him that, I’ll do it.” Mom said quickly, when Matt actually reached into the fridge to get a beer for Dad.

“It’s no problem. Any snacks you want me to take over, babe?” Matt asked Sylvie.

“Get a churchkey, honey-“ Mom started, then sounded concerned, “you’ll tear up your hand like that, Matt -–are you okay?”  
“I’m fine.” Matt sounded bewildered, looking at his hand. Sylvie laughed a little, seeing the bottle-cap in his hand.

“She thinks you need a bottle opener, Matt – so you don’t cut your hand taking the cap off the beer.”  
“Well, the metal is sharp and-“

“He’s a firefighter, Cathy.” Dad called. “And a contractor. I’m pretty sure his hands are fine with taking a cap off a beer.”

“Sorry, I didn’t even think.” Matt said, looking at Mom. “But I’m fine, really.”  
“Sylvie said you had stitches recently.”  
“In my back, but I’m fine now. Had a little accident at work is all.”  
“You’re about to miss kick-off son and I still don’t have my beer.”  
“Chuck, honestly.” Sylvie smiled though as Matt headed into the living area. He handed Dad the beer, and then extended his hand. Dad shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Brett.”

“Good to meet you. Have a seat, Matt. Watch the game with me.” Dad paused. “I assume you’re a Bears fan.”  
“Yes, sir.”

“Alright. Whose your favorite guy for the Bears, all time?”

“Dad, you don’t have to grill him.” Sylvie called from the kitchen.

“George Halas, easy question.” Matt grinned. “But if you mean someone who played for the Bears, I have to go Butkus. If you mean someone I’ve actually seen play in my lifetime, I remember watching Walter Payton as a little kid.”

“You play football?”  
“In high school, yeah.” Matt nodded. “Middle linebacker, mostly.”

“Explains the Butkus pick.”  
“Probably, yeah.” Matt chuckled. Dad must have been content with whatever, though, because conversation turned to the game itself, following the usual ebb and flow of talking during a football game.

Matt had clearly won Dad over thus far. They were chatting like old friends, of course football gave them a nice comfortable middle ground to discuss. Dad worked in some subtle questions about Matt’s life, asking if he’d lived his whole life in Chicago, stuff like that, but nothing too nosy or that Sylvie had noticed made Matt uncomfortable. Matt had asked a few questions of his own, mostly about the farm and some of the people in Fowlerton that Sylvie had mentioned – he must’ve been paying more attention than she’d realized, he even asked how the fundraiser for new church windows was going. Mom had piped in on that, happy to have an excuse (thankfully at half-time) to talk about her involvement in the various church activities.

“Are you a member of a church, Matt?” Mom asked, and he shook his head. Sylvie actually did not know the answer to that. She’d never heard Matt’s faith mentioned by anyone. He and Gabby got married at the courthouse since they were in a hurry. Matt had still been in his turnouts even.

“I’m not a parishioner anywhere. I, uh, should probably go more often. Always figured I’d join when I got settled in a neighborhood, bought a house.”  
“You don’t own a house?” Dad asked, sounding surprised.

“I owned a condo for a few years. It was destroyed in a fire last winter, finally getting that sorted out, so I should be buying again soon.”  
“So where are you living now? Renting again?” Mom asked.

“Actually, I live with my best friend – he took me in when I lost everything in the fire. Sylvie’s probably mentioned him, Kelly Severide.”  
“I recognize the name Severide.” Mom nodded. “He runs one of the other companies in your firehouse, right?”  
“Yeah, he’s on Rescue Squad.”  
“And you’re on Truck, right?” Mom asked.

“That’s right.”  
“That’s the ones with the ladders, Sylvie said. Not the ones with hoses that pump water. Those are engines.”  
“Right.” Matt chuckled a little. “Most people mix them up, use them sort of the same, but yeah, we specialize in…well, sort of the jack-of-all-trades of the fire service. Searches, rescues, overhaul, venting, the ladders, that’s all us. You could come by the firehouse sometime you’re in Chicago, everyone would love to meet Sylvie’s family.”  
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose.”  
“Bring some cookies or brownies, no one will see it as an imposition.” Matt assured her.

“Have you always been a firefighter?”  
“Always wanted to be. Takes a while to become one, though. I started with the CFD in 2003 – I was 21. Before that I did the construction thing full-time for a few years.”  
“Good trade, construction. Someone’s always building something. Sylvie says you do home additions and stuff mostly.” Dad declared evenly.   
“Yes, sir.” Matt nodded. “I’m my only full-time employee, so I don’t build whole houses or anything. I have regular crew guys I can hire, but with my schedule at the firehouse, I don’t keep a crew on all the time.”

“Are you planning to buy a house in the city or maybe someplace a little farther out, with a yard and some room to grow?” Mom asked, and Sylvie almost cut her off because that was perilously close in her opinion to asking if Matt was looking to settle down and start a family right now.

“Games coming back on.” Dad remarked, pointing at the screen, and that was it. Typical men. Any other conversation not about football would wait until dinner. At least then, Emily would be here so it might feel less like a job interview for Matt.

Actually, Emily was a great dinner guest just in general. She had lots of stories to tell, and Mom had been very interested in hearing about her time in medical school and how she ended up a paramedic. It also gave Mom a chance to get to know another important person in Sylvie’s ‘Chicago life’ as Mom called it. Matt and Dad were content to continue talking about football apparently. Sylvie was really pretty sure that Matt liked her parents, and she could tell Mom and Dad liked Matt. Mom had just finished an only slightly embarrassing story about Sylvie and Leo fighting over the last piece of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving when Sylvie was fifteen, when she turned to Matt and asked him the first question of the day that made him pause,

“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Matt?”  
“Uh, just one. An older sister, Christie.”  
“Does she live here in Chicago?”  
“She does – in Lincoln Park.”  
“Are you close? Sylvie and Leo were a little too far apart in age to be close friends.”  
“I wouldn’t say we’re close, no.” Matt hedged. “After our dad’s death, we drifted apart until just a few years ago. I see my niece, Violet, pretty regularly – more often than I see my sister, in fact.”  
“Oh, how old is your niece?”  
“Sixteen. I don’t know how she got that old on us.”  
“And your mother? Is she still in Chicago?”  
“Lives out in a suburb now, on the south side, Matteson, if you know where that is.”  
“But you don’t spend your holidays with them usually?”  
“Not usually, no.” Matt paused, glancing at Sylvie. “My mom is a bit…we don’t always get along. I love her, but I don’t always fit in her life very well. And Christie is busy raising Violet, splitting time with her ex-husband and then she’s pretty serious about this new guy, at least, last I heard from Violet.”  
“Speaking of pie, Cathy, I think it’s time you cut that pie and bring me a piece.” Sylvie wanted to kiss her father right now. Matt had started to look downright uncomfortable, which of course, he had some reason to be, his family was a pretty big sore spot for him.

“Emily, Matt, I hope you like pumpkin. It’s Brett family tradition.”  
“I love pumpkin pie.” Emily reassured.

“Uh, I just love pie?” Matt shrugged with a small grin. “I can cook, I never got much hang for baking, though.”  
“You cook?” Dad asked.

“He’s a fantastic cook.” Emily piped up. “Everyone in the house loves it when Captain Casey cooks, which isn’t very often, but still – he made the most amazing chicken parmesan, I mean, Mouch talked it up beforehand but really, it was great.”

“Guess, being a bachelor, that’s a useful skill.” Dad concluded easily.

“I think it’s a lot like building anything, making a meal. I’ve always liked building things, putting things together. And yeah, it made me a very popular roommate with other guys for a lot of years.” Matt laughed. Mom served the pie, and conversation shifted to lighter topics again, and Matt went back to being his usual charming, mostly confident self. Emily left around 9, citing the need to get up for work early in the morning. Matt followed soon after. He had said his rounds of good nights and that he was so happy to have met Mom and Dad, shook Dad’s hand again and let Mom hug him, and Sylvie had just leaned in to kiss him goodnight, very softly because her parents were no doubt watching (well, Mom was definitely watching like a hawk, she’d been watching for appropriate signs of affection all day), when Mom asked one last difficult question.

“So, Matt, are you going to come to Fowlerton for Christmas with Sylvie?”  
“I didn’t know you were going to Fowlerton for Christmas.” Matt said to her, eyebrows raised.  
“I guess I am.” Sylvie hoped her face conveyed that she hadn’t actually known that for sure until her mother just decreed it. Welcome to the Brett family, sometimes you got voluntold. “And yes, I’d love it if you could come with, Matt.”  
“We would love to have you. You’ll stay in a guestroom of course.”  
“Mom.”

“I like to be upfront with expectations, Sylvie, you know that.”  
“I’ll be fine with a sofa, Mrs. Brett, wherever. But, yes, Sylvie, I would be happy to join you for Christmas in Fowlerton. I’ve never done a small-town Christmas.”  
“Matt, you’ve barely left the city limits of Chicago in your life.” Sylvie pointed out with a small laugh. “Except to go fishing.”  
“Well, that’s settled then. We’re leaving before Sylvie goes to work in the morning, Matt, so we’ll look forward to seeing you next month, then.”  
“I’ll look forward to it as well.” Matt kissed her again. “I’ll call during shift tomorrow if I can. I’ve got meetings with Chief Gayan half the day.”

“Okay. Be careful tomorrow.”  
“You, too. Goodbye, Mr. Brett, Mrs. Brett – I guess I’ll see you at Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not many comments lately, but I'm still getting hits and kudos, so I'm guessing that people are still enjoying the story. I've just about got it finished in first draft, just need the last two chapters or so to come together.


	20. You Really Don't Like Her

She realizes just after Thanksgiving that she is going to have to shop for Matt’s Christmas present. She’s never actually gotten him a Christmas present. She’s not sure anyone in the house has ever gotten him any kind of present, unless you counted that time Gabby got him a hockey stick. You totally couldn’t count the stuff Cindy bought after the fire last year, passing the boot was not the same thing as getting him a thoughtful gift for an occasion. She hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday, only because he had not told her his birthday until the night of his birthday and he’d insisted he didn’t want anything. More annoyingly, as she thought about what to get him for Christmas, he actually _meant_ that he didn’t want anything. Plus, she was going to have to tell her mom something to get him, and Mom would not take ‘he doesn’t need anything’ as a good answer. She has a little time to think about it, at least.

He assured her that he’d enjoyed meeting her parents and was looking forward to Christmas. He promised he had not been supposed to spend it with his own mother and/or Christie and Violet. She teased him about the fact that he refused to give her ideas for gifts by saying that if he wasn’t careful he’d end up getting underwear for Christmas. He had shrugged, said it was useful at least, but then gave her the dirtiest grin and said she could buy him lingerie for Christmas. She’d swatted him, sure, but it had also led to a nice little quickie that morning, so probably not the best deterrent of his idea. Basically, though, she had nothing to explain why he was quiet, moody, and withdrawn in the first week of December. Matt was always moody, as Kelly had reminded her when she’d asked him if he knew what was wrong: actually, he’d said “Casey’s _always_ been moody and too quiet – could be anything from his mom screwing with him to not liking being at 29 to the Blackhawks’ season being a disaster already.” She didn’t think that last was actually a viable reason for Matt to be so quiet, though. He wasn’t unhappy with their relationship, though, that much was clear – he was cuddlier and clingier than he’d been before, and while she worried about his mood and what it meant, she reveled in his open and free affection. She’d noticed it when he was with Gabby, of course, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t had affectionate boyfriends before, but maybe because Matt was so often serious and solemn and yes, a bit distant, the warmth from his affection was somehow greater.

Life at 51 continued, of course, even with Matt up at 29. Dvorak was still competent. He also still heard ‘Casey would’or ‘Casey says’ at least once a shift. She was pretty sure Dvorak had to hate Matt Casey by this point. He was just too bland to show it. He was competent but not in the same way Matt was, maybe because she’d never known Matt when he was a new lieutenant, so he was ‘good enough’ sort of competent not like the ‘trust him to figure out pretty much any situation’ sort of competent. Still, she felt a little bad for him just because he knew he was only temporarily at 51: once Captain Polanshek was fit, he’d take his spot back at 29 and Matt would be back at 51. It was probably why he was bland and pleasant enough but not friendly, not really trying to settle in at 51. At least he was married, seemingly happily, so he had something more stable in his life than floating in the CFD. So she didn't bother to feel too badly for Dvorak. Sylvie had spent most of last night unable to sleep, worrying about what was bothering Matt. He always just said shift was ‘fine’ or ‘typical’ but she knew he didn’t want to worry her. Which actually made her worry more than if he’d just tell her whatever the calls were about. She was just staring blankly into the kitchen area, not at all watching Ritter cleaning up as the end of shift approached, and contemplating how happy she would be to get Matt back at 51 where she could keep an eye on him and know what calls might have upset him, cause these moods of his, when Chief came into the room, looking serious.

“Anyone seen Severide?”  
“I think he’s having a cigar break outside, Chief.” Cruz replied readily.

“Tell him I need him in my office. Brett, you too.”  
“Yes, sir.” She followed him into his office, uncertain what the meeting could be about without Herrmann and Dvorak. Officers’ meetings weren’t all that unusual, but half of the officers weren’t here. She waited a little impatiently the couple of minutes it took for Severide to join them. Chief took a deep breath, and then addressed them both.

“I just got a call from District Chief Walker. Truck 103 was at the scene of a multiple-vehicle accident at California and Belmont, when Captain Casey was somehow struck by another vehicle. He’s bruised up, had to have his knee checked out,” Chief held up a hand to quiet her, and maybe Kelly too, “but the larger concern is that he lost consciousness on scene and upon regaining consciousness has been disoriented. He’s been admitted to Med for observation.”

“Did they say what’s-“ Sylvie asked quickly.  
“He’s having testing completed, but that’s all Chief Walker knew.”

“They know about his old injury, right?” Severide asked.  
“I’m sure they have a complete medical history. I wanted to tell you both so you could go check on him yourself as soon as shift is over.”  
“That’s in like 15 minutes. We can just-“  
“No one goes anywhere until third watch is on duty.” Chief insisted. “Neighboring houses are tied up at scenes, we cannot take 51 out of service to have our PIC and our Squad lieutenant at Med. There’s no indication that he is at any immediate risk. Go after shift.”

“Shouldn’t we tell everyone?” Sylvie asked, wondering why only she and Kelly had been informed of Matt’s injury.  
“I didn’t think Casey would want everyone there for something that’s a precaution.” Chief replied. “It sounds like they’re just being careful because of his history, it’s probably just a concussion. He’s out a couple of shifts and then it’s back to normal.”  
  


She, Stella, and Kelly all headed to Med the minute shift was over. Maggie quickly directed them up to Neurology on the fourth floor, saying he was in room 4118 and had been admitted at his neurologist’s order for 24 hours of observation and testing. Kelly got held up by a telephone call as they made it up to the room, so Stella and Sylvie went into his room. A woman was standing next to the far side of Matt’s bed, looming more like, and Sylvie didn’t miss the fact that she’d either been holding Matt’s hand or fiddling with something near his hand, as the thin cover over Matt’s legs and torso was just being flipped back when they entered. Sylvie thought it was odd either way, Matt wasn't much of a 'toucher' except with her and the women in his immediate family. Matt wasn’t even awake, as became clear when she moved to the nearest side of Matt’s bed.

“Who are you?” The woman, dark-haired, moderately attractive, and if Sylvie had to guess about 50 years of age, was wearing a CFD t-shirt. She must be from 29.

“Stella Kidd, I’m on Truck 81 at House 51, and Sylvie Brett, she’s our PIC.”  
“What’re you doing here?”  
“Checking on my captain.” Stella replied, just about a match for the woman’s aggressive tone.

“You must be from House 29.” Sylvie tried a slightly gentler approach.

“Battalion Chief Janet Gayan.” The woman replied evenly, still looking at them suspiciously.

“Matt’s spoken of you.” Sylvie smiled, though she carefully left out that much of what Matt had said was not inherently complimentary. He hadn’t said a lot, but it was clear he didn’t like how Gayan ran things, thought she was way too slack about drills and way too harsh about hierarchy. He hadn’t said it, but Sylvie had read between the lines, that he thought Gayan demanded respect without earning it, or giving much. There was something else there in his dislike or distrust of Gayan, but he was refusing to talk about pretty much anything. 

“Matt?” The woman raised her eyebrows, as if there was something inherently suspicious in referring to her colleague by his first name.

“Have you heard anything?” Stella asked.  
“His medical information is private.” Chief Gayan replied sort of sharply.

“Is he unconscious or-“  
“Jus’ ‘sleep.” Matt’s soft voice cut her off. “ ‘til you started shouting.”

“No one is shouting, Captain.” Stella corrected lightly. “You’re just tired, probably got a killer headache."  
"I’m fine, Sylvie.” His blue eyes fully opened and he turned his attention straight to her. “Just got my bell rung pretty good.”

“You’ve been admitted to the Neurology department; that is not ‘fine’.”

“He awake?” Severide asked as he strode into the room. He did an obvious double-take at seeing Chief Gayan in the room. He must’ve decided to ignore it for a second, though, and turned his attention to Matt. He looked relieved and had that crazy adorable little-boy smile on when he made eye contact with Matt. “Damn, man, you scared the crap out of us. Again. You alright?”  
“I’m fine, they’re just being cautious.”  
“Your skull was permanently compromised, dumbass, doctors worry about that stuff. Everyone but you worries about that stuff.” Kelly pointed out.

“And you are?” Chief Gayan asked sharply.

“Kelly Severide, I’m Casey’s emergency contact, we work together at 51. You are?”  
“Battalion Chief Janet Gayan, Captain Casey’s boss.” She must’ve recognized Kelly’s name somewhat, she at least stuck out her hand in a respectful greeting unlike she’d given to Stella and Sylvie. Sylvie also wondered why Severide had left out that they were roommates and he was Matt’s legal proxy, he was the one person who actually had the full right to know Matt’s medical information if Matt was altered or generally unable to make his own decisions.

“Have we heard anything from the doctors, man?” Kelly turned back to Matt.

“I got some cognitive and neuropsycho-whatever testing today, and a CT scan this morning. It’s a precaution, guys, I’m fine.”  
“You have a bruise covering a third of your face.” Sylvie pointed out. It was pretty massive, though she might be exaggerating slightly. “What happened?”  
“I don’t really know. Got called to a wreck, four cars, had a pin-in we had to clear, next thing I remember, I’m in the ambo. Memory’s a bit fuzzy for part of last night.”  
“Yeah, like it came and went last time?” Kelly sounded highly suspicious and if she didn’t mistake him completely, a bit scared.

“No, just bits are gone and some are…fuzzy.” Matt assured him. He turned, looking a little surprised or no, not surprised, uncomfortable, to realize Gayan was there. How he hadn’t noticed earlier, Sylvie couldn’t figure, or maybe he’d just forgotten, but no, if he was that absent-minded surely the tests would’ve been completed already. That he wasn’t bumped in line was a good sign. “Chief Gayan, I didn’t expect you to be here this morning.”  
“I didn’t think you should be alone, Matthew. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of your friends from 51, now, though. The nurses said you’ll need some new clothes to go home in tomorrow, by the way, apparently yours weren’t fit for much by the time you got here.”

“Okay, thanks, Chief.”

“I’ll see you soon, Matthew.” She left, looking at Stella and Sylvie oddly as if she was trying to place them or something. Something about the look just bothered Sylvie. That, and the fact that the woman had called him ‘Matthew’. No one who knew Matt very well or for very long, like more than a couple minutes, called him Matthew. He always corrected people to use ‘Matt’. Plus, at work, he always used Casey. Everyone in the department pretty much used last names or nicknames, not a lot of calling each other by their first name’s – Tony was pretty much the only person at 51 who went by his actual first name.

“That’s your new chief?” Kelly asked a few moments after she’d left.

“Yep.”  
“She’s…not what I pictured.”

“What’d you picture? A battle-axe or something?” Matt scoffed.

“Yeah, sorta.” Kelly admitted.

“Not all female firefighters are bad-looking, Sev. You should know.”  
“She used to be hot, I’d bet.”

“You lookin?” Stella asked, eyebrows arched.

“Not at all. Just…surprised to see her here. Didn’t think you’d hit it off with anyone up there, man.”  
“He hasn’t.” Sylvie almost smiled, just because she was happy to know she knew him well enough to make this call, “she called him ‘Matthew’ – no way he likes her and he hasn’t gotten her to call him Matt or Casey in the six weeks he’s been up there. You didn’t expect her to be here either, did you?”  
“Hoping she wasn’t.” Matt muttered.

“You _really_ don’t like her.” Kelly remarked, looking a little surprised.

“Can’t stand her.” Matt admitted. “Grissom was right, and yes, I’ve filed reports with him, and no, I’m not telling you anything else. Except that it looks like Polanshek’s knee will be good in about 5 weeks. So mid-January I should be back at 51.”

“That’s good news. It could’ve gone longer.” Stella pointed out.

“You sure you’re okay up there?” Kelly asked.

“Yeah, I just…makes me appreciate 51 and Chief a lot more. At least I might make a decent firefighter out of a couple of the crew up there, though. Can’t figure out what Polanshek’s been doing.”  
“Pretty high turnover up there.” Kelly pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. Probably it.” Matt nodded. “Hey, uh, Kidd, can you go see if my nurse has a minute? I got a question.”

“Sure.” Stella left, probably well aware that she was being gotten rid of, but Sylvie couldn’t guess why. Matt waited just a moment for her to be out, and then reached for Sylvie’s hand.

“I’m fine, babe, I promise. I just wanted to ask you something kinda awkward with Kidd in the room.”  
“Hey, man, if I need to step out” Severide chuckled and motioned that he’d head for the door, too.

“Nah, kinda have to ask both of you anyway. I’m hoping you can do me a favor.”  
“It must not be too dirty if you’re asking both of us, so no problem.” Severide teased again.

“Can you bring me some of my stuff? Clothes for tomorrow or tonight when they let me go, whichever that is, and uh, bring it back as quick as you can?”

“You planning a prison break?” Severide asked. “I’m hungry, if you’re okay, I’m gonna get some lunch, come back when you’re ready for visitors, man – after your tests.”  
“Can you just bring me back some clothes? I’m not wearing anything under this and it’s making me nuts.”  
“Are you even allowed anything?”  
“I don’t think nudity is required for a CT scan, so yeah. Speak of the devil.”  
“I haven’t even been devilish, yet, Mr. Casey. Your friend said you had a question?” The nurse arrived, moving briskly but not like she was in a rush, just like she was efficient and busy.

“Can my friends bring me some stuff from home?”  
“No food – not until we’re sure your stomach has fully settled with the lighter options we’ll provide. But there’s no reason you can’t have some pants, if that’s what you’re asking.”  
“It is, thank you.”

“You’re seriously not…what happened to what you were wearing on the scene?” Sylvie asked.

“I think I pretty spectacularly puked all over.”  
“His other clothes are in a bag in the bottom drawer, but yes, he’s going to want to clean them thoroughly.” The nurse filled them in helpfully. “Is that all, Mr. Casey?”  
“Yeah, thanks – I’m good.”  
“No video games, either.” The nurse said, mostly looking at Severide. “Nothing likely to strain his eyes or cause any sort of reaction in a concussed brain. Just clothes.”  
“You seriously sent me out of the room to ask these two to bring you underwear?” Stella laughed lightly. “I’m aware you have them, Captain. I’ve seen you in them.”  
“What? When was this?” Sylvie asked, shocked to hear that, though not at all threatened by it.

“I didn’t realize she’d stayed over, I was getting my first coffee of the morning.” Matt admitted, shaking his head. “Now I make sure I’m fully dressed before I leave my room every morning.”

“You got nothing to blush about, Captain. Sylvie’s right, your butt is very cute.”  
“Hey.”  
“Not as cute as Kelly’s, but cute.”  
“Better.” Kelly chuckled. “How ‘bout Stella and I get your stuff, and Sylvie stays with you. No books, no tv, no games, you’re gonna be bored in five minutes or less, man.”  
“Keep your girlfriend out of my underwear drawer, Sev. It’s awkward.”  
“No one is going to be shocked by your underwear, Case. It’s always black, always boxer-briefs, and always the same brand.”  
“It’s not always black.” Matt sort of pouted, and it was adorable. “Sometimes it’s gray.”  
“Oh, the variety.” Sylvie teased him, but she kissed him softly. “I’d like to stay, if you’re okay with them getting your stuff.”  
“It’s fine. Thanks, guys.”

She settled in to sit with him as Stella and Severide left. He looked at her strangely as she moved towards the chair that she figured Chief Gayan had been sitting in before.

“Sylvie, just sit with me.”  
“That’s what I’m doing.”  
“No, with me.” He patted the bed beside him.

“Matt, hospital beds were not built for two, and you are not a small man.”  
“I think we’ve established I’m not small, yes.” He teased, a rather dirty glint in his eyes for a man with a serious concussion.

“Don’t even think about anything like that, Matt Casey.”

“Like what?”  
“I recognize that dirty in your eyes.”  
“Normally you like the dirty in my eyes.”  
“Normally is not you in a hospital bed.”  
“Fair enough.” He admitted. “I mean it, though, come over here with me. You were on shift, you can nap, I’m supposed to rest, too – we both sleep better together anyway.”  
“You make a good argument. _But_ , you better keep your hands to yourself, mister.” She caved in to the big blue eyes and the logical argument and how adorable he looked with mussed hair and an uncharacteristic five o’clock shadow. Plus, she liked the idea of being able to cuddle in with him. He’d scared her with this injury. Even the thought of Matt having another serious head injury scared the crap out of her. She was probably going to have nightmares about it now. Maybe that would be better if she could smell him while she slept. She settled carefully into his side, the opposite one from where it was obvious he’d taken the brunt of his injuries. She felt his arm come around her, and a kiss on the top of her head as she settled against his shoulder.

“I love you, Sylvie.” Okay, there was the big moment. It wasn’t said casually, there was a strength and emphasis and surety to it. She teared up, and turned her head up to meet his gaze.

“I love you, too, Matt.” She kissed him gently. She had no doubt how much she meant those words, either. She’d loved him as a friend for years, and falling into this newer, deeper, form of love had been so easy. He was an easy man to love.


	21. Fixer Uppers

She was increasingly worried about Matt. He came home from every shift looking like he hadn’t slept the entire 24 hours, or sometimes longer if he had more overtime. He often wasn’t showering at work either, that much was obvious – it was hard to hide or even be very subtle about the smell of fires and sweat. It didn’t matter that it was December, when you worked hard in turnout gear, you got sweaty. He had soot or dirt at the edges of his clothing, like he’d washed with a cloth just getting his hands and arms and neck and face, but stopped at the edge of his shirt instead of taking it off or just showering. He’d always been the last guy into the showers at 51, letting everyone else go first, but he had also been a pretty big stickler for cleanliness. If nothing else, leaving whatever you were exposed to at an incident on your skin probably wasn’t a good idea. His construction work had slowed down at least, so they had more time off together, and she had some relief knowing that Polanshek was due back in a month. Still, she hated seeing him so run down. Severide had noticed the same thing, and the two of them had even discussed what could be going on: hazing at 29 made no sense, Matt outranked almost everyone in the house so that sort of behavior would be career suicide. Neither of them could imagine Matt having alienated anyone enough to overcome the fear of CFD hierarchy. That left insomnia (Severide’s suggestion, apparently Matt when stressed had a tendency not to sleep or get his cycle all messed up) as the most likely culprit, but he slept fine at home. Hell, he’d even relaxed enough to sleep over at her place a couple times, though he refused oddly to have sex at her place. He also practically snuck out each morning in an attempt to dodge her roommates. She didn’t understand that, did Matt think Cruz and Otis thought they were celibate or something? Matt said nothing which she was learning was completely typical for Matt – he shut up tighter than a clam when he was upset. She was a little comforted, only a little, by Kelly’s confident assurance that it was not their relationship that was bothering Matt: according to Severide, Matt lit up at the mere mention of her name in a way he hadn’t done since the early days with Dawson. It had to be something at work, but all the things she could think of led right back to the fact that as a captain, he was pretty insulated from the common problems guys faced at a new firehouse. Despite her worries, he was still a pretty good boyfriend – when he was with her, he was the same as always and he was sensitive, attentive, considerate, kind, and yes, the sex was still good. So…she wasn’t worried about _them_ , she was worried about _him_.

“Think I can talk you into doing me a favor?” Matt asked as they lay curled up in his bed. It was full winter now in Chicago, so unashamedly got up after sex to put pajamas on because apparently the two men refused to turn up the thermostat, but still, she was post-coital and pretty open to doing anything for him. It turns out multiple orgasms do that to a girl.

“Right now, I will do just about anything. I love you.” She kissed his chest softly. “I also love your dick and what it does to me. Just so you know.”  
“You are really good for a man’s confidence, you know that?” Matt chuckled lightly.

“And you are really good at…well, lots of things. But I’m a little sore so I don’t want to wind you up too much right now. So what’s the favor?”  
“How do you feel about helping me shop for my new place?”  
“Are you kidding? That’s not even a favor. You _know_ I love house hunting. Are we house hunting? Or condo or apartment or what?”  
“House.” Matt was clearly decided. “I’m looking mostly the Logan Square area, I guess – not too far from the firehouse – or maybe south in Pilsen and Bridgeport.”

“This is going to be so much fun. But are you sure you’re ready to move out of here?”  
“I think it’s time Severide and Kidd have some privacy, yeah.” He paused, pulling her more tightly against him. “And maybe some for me and you, too.”

“It would be nice to not worry about how loud I am when you…do that thing with your tongue.”  
“If you want me to go to sleep any time soon, that’s probably not the best way to take this conversation.”  
“I’m way too tired for any more sex. Sorry. I need sleep. So do you. You’ve looked really beat lately, Matt.”  
“It’ll be done soon. I’ll be back at 51 soon.”  
“4 weeks is not that soon.” She almost pouted. She missed him. She liked having him on calls. Plus, she was so used to seeing him for those long shifts that not seeing him felt way too long.

“You know I love you, right?” He asked, after a moment’s silence.

“Matt, of course I do. You tell me all the time, and you show me just as often.” She leaned up, trying to meet his eyes. “Is something wrong?”  
“No, of course not. I just wanted…to make sure.”  
  


Going house-shopping with a contractor was an interesting experience. He was often quiet during the showings, but then in the truck had plenty of commentary. It wasn’t that he was being difficult, but she knew he had high standards for renovations and she didn’t think the realtor had entirely taken into account that Matt was probably going to want to personalize his own house. Showing him a bunch of fully finished places was not the best idea. She also found it interesting how many realtors talked to him about things like maintenance and the yard and to her about features like laundry hook-ups and kitchens and closets. It was his house, not hers. At least, officially. If she had some hopes of anything else, she was trying to squash them because it was way too early into their relationship to even be thinking about things like getting a house together.

Her favorite thus far was the house they were currently looking at in Smith Park. They weren’t as close to the park as might be ideal, but the house was on a pretty quiet street and near an elementary school (not that she was going to say out loud that she thought maybe Matt was paying attention to school zones) and had a pretty good-sized backyard for being so close into the city. It needed some cosmetic touch-ups, and certainly it could use some work to make it more “Matt” but it wasn’t going to be a massive project for him. Plus, it was pretty affordable. The closets were kind of small, and so were the bathrooms, but in an older house that was going to be hard to avoid.

“I like it.” Sylvie said, wrapping her arms around Matt’s waist. The realtor had taken them through and was letting them ‘get a feel for the space’ now. “It’s not perfect, but I don’t think you want a perfect place with no projects for you.”

“It’s close enough to the house.” Matt said, sounding approving. “Couple problems I can see though. There’s no garage-“  
“You don’t have one now. You didn’t have one at your old place, either.” She hadn’t even known a garage was on his list of must-haves or at least the wants. It wasn’t like he had a vehicle that really needed that much shelter. He drove the oldest car of everyone at 51, which she’d think was strange because he made more money than most of them, except she knew Matt. He would drive that truck until it literally died before he replaced it. That was just who he was.

“It’d be nice to have the storage and the space for a workshop, plus someplace to park when weather is crappy.” Matt pointed out. “And if there’s a yard, nice to have a place to put the lawnmower.”  
“What are the other downsides?”  
“The master bedroom is on a different floor from all the other bedrooms. I’m not a fan of that. I’d have to have air-conditioning installed, the unit they’ve got is older than you are, I think. And I’d like to have a place with a fireplace in it.”  
“But it’s still a contender, right? I mean, you said you wanted a yard, and you won’t get many bigger than this in the city.”  
“Right – because there’s no garage.” Matt pointed out. “If I build that, the yard gets smaller. But it’s still a great lot and the neighborhood is good but still affordable.”

“Plus, it’s just a cute house. The bathrooms are great, especially for their size.”  
“Yep.” He was grinning at her, that smile that said he thought she was adorable even if he didn’t entirely understand her excitement. That was fine with her. She didn’t understand his excitement for sports, so he could just find her love of real estate unfathomable too. Seemed fair enough.

“How big a hurry are you in?” She asked, knowing that was an important consideration.   
“It’s not like Severide is kicking me out.” He shrugged. “I’ve got the time to wait for what I want, I guess. I just feel like I need to get my own place sooner rather than later. I don’t need to be crowding him and Kidd as they try to start a serious life together, you know?”  
“And?” She knew that wasn’t everything just from the way he’d said it.

“And I think, if you and I are going to…build something together, too, maybe it’s important I get a place where we’re not tripping over roommates every morning and night.” He shrugged.

“Since I’m not going anywhere anytime soon – roommate tripping or otherwise – there’s no huge rush, then.” She reassured him, leaning up to kiss him softly. “We can wait and find the perfect place. With a yard and apparently a garage and enough bedrooms for guests and a few projects for you to complete because I know you, Matt Casey, you need to make this place yours. If you’re really going to settle down, I think it needs your mark on it. So, maybe we’re looking for more of a fixer upper.”  
“It’d be fitting.” He sort of half-smiled. “I’m a bit of a fixer upper myself.”  
“Matt, if you’re a fixer upper, you’re the best-looking fixer upper I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, the aesthetics may be alright, but the structure…I’m a bit of a mess.”  
“That’s okay. I’ve always liked fixer uppers anyway.” She kissed him fondly. She meant it, too. She liked him, loved him, exactly as he was, even with all the messy bits from his childhood and his parents and Gabby and Hallie and everything else he’d survived in his life. Right now, for some reason, Matt was focusing on the scars. She preferred to focus on the fact that despite the scars, he was the best person she’d ever met, and that told her what she needed to know about his character. Even back when they were just friends, when he was dating, engaged to, married to Gabby, she’d admired his conviction and his innate goodness. She’d only come to love him more in the intervening years. So, yeah, she’d take some scarring. She wasn’t afraid of the work necessary, not when the reward was him.


	22. He's a Bad Sharer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and kudos, everyone. It provides a real impetus to keep writing when you know people are waiting on and enjoying the story. I hope you enjoy this part. We're nearly to the end. I know where the ending is now, I just have to get us there.

She was getting used to the morning routines at the loft. She spent more nights there lately than at her own place. She had been very touched when Matt offered her a couple drawers for her things so she could leave stuff at his place, though that wore off a little when he’d laughed and pointed out that he hadn’t exactly had to do anything to give her that space: he only had enough stuff to fill three drawers out of the five in the dresser anyway. His closet was just as sad – dress blue uniform, one nice black suit, one slate gray suit, a few dress shirts, three ties, and a few work shirts, three pairs of jeans, three pairs of shoes, and a pair of work boots. That was it. For a man who swore he didn’t want anything for Christmas, he certainly wasn’t the man who ‘had everything’. Still, she liked having room for some of her things, so she shouldn’t complain too much. It let her develop habits, like showering with him in the morning, so she could have the lingering smell of him with her for at least the first half of shift or so, and not feeling like a guest, she could take longer than him in the mornings and not feel like she was in the way or messing him up or like he wanted her to hurry. He would prep a mug of coffee for her, and a bagel, so she didn’t have to rush – he was naturally beautiful, so _his_ morning routine was annoyingly simple. That said, who knew she’d find it sexy to watch him shave? It was cozy, though, overall, sharing your mornings with someone. And his two roommates. Which, well, at least she had other people helping keep a daily eye on him.

Matt was…well, there was something wrong with Matt. She knew it, Stella knew it, Kelly knew it, hell, even everyone from 51 who only saw him at Molly’s one or two nights a week now, they knew it. He was good at shoving down his negative emotions, so it was hard to tell what those emotions were exactly, but he was acting differently. He was acting sort of hunted, or she didn’t know quite what to call it. He was jumpy and seemed to prefer being smack in the middle of a group of his friends at all times. He was paranoid about people’s phones, as if he thought he was being recorded all the time or something. No one knew quite what to do about it, though. She had a feeling it was about whatever he wasn’t talking about going on up at 29. She hated feeling like all she could do was sit back and ‘support him’. She wanted to _do_ something. She just didn’t know what to do, because she didn’t know exactly what the problem was. She was thinking about how to get it out of him, as she walked out into the kitchen.

“You’re a secretive son of a bitch, you know that?” Kelly wasn’t really asking.

“It’s none of your business.”  
“Yeah, none of my business.” Kelly scoffed. “Just like it’s none of Chief’s business – I know he’s asked – and it’s none of Herrmann’s business, and hell, I bet you tell Brett it’s none of her business, too.”  
“It’s not your business. And stop talking about me like a bunch of middle school girls.”

“We’re _worried_ about you, Casey!” Kelly was pretty much shouting. “Something is going on, stop lying about it!”

“I’m not lying. I’m not even denying ‘something is going on’. I’m saying it’s none of your business.” Matt shot back quickly.

“None of my fucking business? When the fuck does it get to be my business? The next time you’re in the hospital? Or the time after that? Maybe when you’ve gotten yourself killed you fucking martyr! Why don’t you just tell me what is going on?”  
“That’s rich, you never say a damned word about anything! And if I try to get you to talk to me, or even fucking listen to me, you do this – you yell and you make it all about you!”  
“No, it’s all about _you_ – why you can’t trust anyone to help you out and why you shut everyone out the minute shit starts to go sideways, usually when you need help the fucking most!”

“Should we…” Sylvie slip carefully over to Stella, who was standing by the sofa while the two men were in the kitchen next to the coffeemaker.

“You’ve known ‘em longer than I have.” Stella reminded. Technically, Stella had known Kelly longer than Sylvie had, but Sylvie had known the two men together longer. “What do you think?”  
“I think the two of them need to be separated before they throw punches.”  
“Eh, might make ‘em feel better.” Stella shrugged. “They’ll be best friends ‘til they die from it.”

“What?” She was trying to ignore the frankly cyclical argument going on in kitchen, which was mostly trading accusations of being stubborn, silent, and secretive – which they both were, preferring to lick any wounds in private.

“I’ve never worried these two would stop being best friends. No matter what, chips are down, they got each other’s backs. It’s kinda sweet and endearing actually.” Stella shrugged again. “I worry that one of ‘em’s gonna get in a jam in a fire someday and the other one’ll get himself killed with him, just to make sure he never has to live without his brother.”  
“Oh.” She hadn’t really thought of that before. It made perfect sense though. Now it was going to be one of her fears, too. “Think this’ll last much longer?”  
“Nope. They’ve just about reached juvenile insult stage, then they’ll separate for 24-48 hours, be childish, and then make up by…basically not talking. I don’t get it, but we’ve both seen it for years now.”  
“Yeah. We have.” That was, in fact, pretty much the exact cycle of Casey-Severide fights. Matt broke first this time, slamming his hand down on the island’s counter and Sylvie could see every muscle in his arms tensing with anger.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Severide! I can handle my own shit!”  
“Sure – ‘til you start putting your fist through walls again! Or worse!” Kelly took a visibly deep breath, and his voice was quite a bit (if forcibly) calmer. “You gotta talk to someone, Matt. You don’t trust me, fine-“  
“It’s not trust.” Matt sighed, and so did Sylvie, in relief. This might not carry over into shift. She really didn’t like the idea of Matt going up to 29 mad, or thinking anyone was mad at him. “I just can’t…it’s only four more weeks.”  
“What is going on up there, man? You’ve lost weight, you’re quiet, you act like people are gonna jump out of the woodwork at you.”

“I just need back to 51, that’s all. I can’t…I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”  
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Stella piped up. “We’re your friends. We worry. You’re Casey. You tell us not to worry. Then you usually dive under a moving elevator that no one knows how to stop. So ‘not worrying’ is not really an option.”  
“There’s no moving elevator.”  
“You usually find one.” Sylvie said it before she could think about it, and then regretted it. He looked a little betrayed by her ‘siding’ with Kelly and Stella. Mostly, though, he looked tired, like he did virtually every morning lately. He wasn’t sleeping well. Even his sex drive seemed to be down. He still asked her to stay over, saying he preferred to sleep with her, but they hadn’t had any sort of really sexual contact in days (kissing, but that was it).

“I’m not going looking for any elevators, or any sort of trouble. I got too much good going on right now.” Matt walked towards her, and pulled her into a soft kiss. “I love you. I’ll be careful. I just don’t want you to worry. I gotta go to work – have a good shift, be careful.”  
“I love you, too.” She kissed him again before he headed out the door. “And that’s why we all worry.”

Severide was off all shift. Everyone noticed it. No one was willing to say anything. The only person usually willing to wade into the mess of Kelly’s moods was Matt, and even that was rare – Matt tended to let people to themselves, because that was his instinctual reaction to pretty much everything, to shove it down until he was alone and could lick his wounds in private. He was fine on calls, but during the downtime he was quiet, kept to himself, and was clearly contemplating something serious. Dvorak had the truckies organizing the tools and cleaning the compartments, so Stella was busy and besides, Sylvie figured they both were worrying the same idea in their heads, might as well worry together. So she dropped into one of the seats at the ‘Squad Table’ – the rest of the guys were probably inside, avoiding their lieutenant.

“You know, Matt loves you. He won’t say it, because he’s a boy and so are you, so there’s some rule against it or something. He just loves us so much he can’t stand the idea of us worrying about him.”  
“You know why?” Kelly almost bit it out, but she knew he wasn’t mad at her. “He doesn’t think he’s worth it. Doesn’t think anyone should worry about him because he doesn’t matter, he doesn’t expect anyone to really have his back, and it pisses me off. I’ve had his back for damn near twenty years, since we were practically kids.”  
“He knows that.”  
“Does he?” Kelly asked. “ ‘cause I know, shit hits the fan, he’ll back my play no matter what, even if he thinks I made the wrong play. I could punch him in the face and he’d still crawl through fire and broken glass to save my ass.”  
“You’d do the same for him.”

“Of course I would. But he doesn’t see that. Which means I fucked up along the way somehow. He shouldn’t be surprised when I tossed him the keys to my place last year – didn’t even occur to him he’d stay with me. Man let me live with him for two years after Shay, and I know Dawson wasn’t really a big fan of that. He couldn’t say ‘no’ to her and stick with it on anything other than being on my side no matter what back then.” Kelly sighed. “And he thinks I want him out now Stella’s moved in, like there isn’t room for both of ‘em in my life.”  
“Actually, I think that’s…a bit Stella and maybe a bit…me. Sorry.”  
“Wait, you mean, he’s – he’s talked to you about moving in with him?”  
“No, no,” she corrected quickly, “but we went house shopping together, and he…I wasn’t just a second opinion, he really wanted me to like it.”

“Oh.” Kelly started grinning a little wildly. “Three months.”  
“Three months for what?”  
“Just remember I said that – three months.”  
“Okay.” She rarely understood all the shorthand between Matt and Kelly, but now she felt actually in the middle of something and it was strange, but she was afraid to ask. She went back to the original topic. “I’m worried about him, too. He’s so jumpy. He’s lost weight, and he’s not sleeping on shift I don’t think. And he’s been hurt more times up there in two months than he has been in two years here at 51, and it’s not like this is a quiet house or he’s not done some risky rescues and stuff here.”

“Grissom’s wanting to get rid of Gayan.” Kelly reported quietly. “Not sure he meant to admit that, but that’s why he sent Case up there. Matt’s got meticulous reports about mismanagement apparently – he’s trying to run it better but she keeps putting up roadblocks. But that’s Matt, doing the right thing even when he gets his ass kicked for it. And now I’m worried she knows he’s Grissom’s rat, and something’s going on up there.”  
“He’s not a rat.”  
“He kinda is.” Kelly pointed out. “Not a spy – he’s not calling Grissom with daily reports, I know that for sure, that just isn’t Casey – but he’ll document everything three times.”  
“That’s his job, isn’t it?”  
“Could tank his career, getting a chief fired.” Kelly sighed. “He won’t care – just say he did the right thing, and he’s content to ride out his career on 81 anyway.”  
“So, why are you worried about his career then? Chief won’t kick him out of 51.”  
“You know, he’d make a good chief. He’s got the right…mind for it, if he can get over blaming himself for everything and never letting go of a mistake he makes, no matter how minor. Think Boden knows it. Hell, I think he’s always known it. Think he’s been training Casey up for the job since day one.”  
“I don’t think he wants to be anything more than what he is, at least not right now. You should understand that.”  
“Oh, believe me, I do. Guess it’s not his long-term career I’m worried about.”  
“I know. It’s just him.”  
“If she’s letting him get hurt because she knows, it could be worse each time. A saw? And a head injury?”  
“I thought, when they said ‘head injury’ I just, I know his history, and I wasn’t even here, but that scared me.” Sylvie admitted softly.

“I was in that ambo, with Dawson, watching him seize and bleed all over the gurney, and I remember thinking Dawson was scared, really scared, so it was just as bad as I was scared it was, and I looked at him, and for a minute I thought, what if this is the last time I see him? Seizing and moaning and pissing himself? That can’t be…then the prospect of brain damage.” Kelly shook his head. “Scared us all. Brett, I’ve seen him push through shit no man should have to push through – physical injuries, sure, but even the other hurts, this is different.”  
“I thought he was just unhappy at first.” She admitted.

“With you?” Kelly looked shocked. “He’s the happiest I’ve seen him since…I think since Hallie, really.”  
“What about Dawson?”  
“He was crazy about her. We both know that.” Kelly shook his head. “I think the rest of us, hell, Casey too, were all pretty blind to some problems in their relationship. I saw more than most, but she was my friend, too, made it hard to see it fairly all the time.”  
“Yeah, I’ve been finding out that some of what I thought I knew about Matt, I really just knew through Gabby. She bounced back and forth between stories about how he was the sweetest, greatest, most fantastic husband ever and then how he held her back, and didn’t support her, and only ever saw his own point of view. She called him selfish, said it was probably normal because of his messed up parents’ relationship, but that he was inflexible and selfish.”  
“Didn’t know that. But it doesn’t surprise me. She called him selfish anytime she wanted to win a fight. It always works.”  
“It does?”  
“Don’t take that as a tip.” Kelly warned her. “But yeah, work every time. Andy and I figured it out when he was like 21. Call Matt Casey selfish and he’ll believe you, and he hates selfish people, so he gives in. Every time. Guaranteed way to get your way. If he thinks he’s doing it on someone else’s behalf, he’ll die rather than give an inch, but if he thinks he’s being selfish, he caves like a house of cards.”

“So,” Sylvie stopped to think for a moment, “you think he thinks if he tries to pull the plug on this mess up in 29, he’s being selfish, because if he stays, he’s gonna clean the house, the battalion, up?”  
“Not until you said it. Mostly, I’ve been thinking someone is picking at old wounds. I can’t figure out who or when or how, but it’s gotta be up there.”  
“Old wounds?”

“You know about his family.”  
“That was so long ago, no one is going to say anything now. It’s ancient history.”  
“You want to hurt a man, piss him off, there’s no better way than ‘your mama’ – starts a fight in every language and every culture.” Kelly pointed out. “His is a giant scab everyone can see and pick at. And there’s something there between him and his mom, something he won’t admit.”  
“Gabby said he blamed himself for his dad’s death, because he left out a key or something.”  
“Shit, yeah, there’s that. I meant something…look, don’t tell Case I said this. I met his mom twice, that’s all. My parents had a messed up marriage that ended all sorts of messy, but his parents…” Kelly trailed off, shaking his head. “He spiked a fever once, about 105, out of his head, starting talking to people who weren’t there. Parts were kinda funny. He tried to stab a hallucination of Cheer Bear for being too cheerful, no joke.”  
“Oh my god, how have you not told me that story? He is so getting a little Cheer Bear for Christmas!” Sylvie laughed at the image. She could laugh about his high fever now, because he was clearly fine, but it would’ve been scary at the time.

“My point is, Andy and me learned that night that Matt doesn’t think he’s worth shit. Just doesn’t expect anyone to think he’s worth defending – figure its why he turtles whenever shit happens to him. And if I’ve been his friend all these years and he still doesn’t know I’d charge into Hell itself to save his ass, I’ve fucked it up.”  
“I think you might be overthinking it slightly.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“He gets so defensive because he doesn’t want you charging into whatever situation he’s in and fixing it. He _knows_ you’ll do it if he tells you, Kelly. _That_ ’s why he won’t say anything. I think –I think he keeps shoving us out of this mess he’s in because he knows we _will_ charge in. And I think it’s something that embarrasses him.”  
“Why do you think that?”  
“Because he acts a little like he did when I first, mostly sober, saw him naked and…I’m not going to finish that story.” She stopped, not wanting to share anything Matt would want private. Kelly actually started laughing at her. She had no idea why. It was kind of rude. They’d just had this major discussion, a heart-to-heart about Matt, and he was laughing at her.

“You think I don’t know, Brett?” Kelly was still chuckling. “He’s shy as hell about only one thing.”

“Why would you know that?”  
“Young men do stupid shit. And Casey once streaked Wicker Park, including the fountain.”

“Matt Casey? Streaked?”  
“He was shit-faced drunk, but yeah. Andy ended up carrying his clothes through the park, convinced him to get dressed again so we could go to another bar. Sobered up the next day and you’d have thought he’d streaked a Cubs game in the middle of the day instead of Wicker Park at 1 am.” Kelly chuckled for another minute. “But you’re right, he is acting a lot like when it’s something he just doesn’t think is very ‘Captain Casey’. You think he’s embarrassed about whatever it is?”  
“I do. He wants us to stay out of it because it embarrasses him. Which worries me. It’s hurting him, and it’s embarrassing, and if you think Chief Gayan knows he’s written her up or whatever, I mean, what can she actually do?”  
“That would embarrass him? All I can think of is something to do with his family.” Kelly shrugged. “Usually that makes him mad, but he used to act like this about it sometimes, too, and I can see how it’d be sort of humiliating.”  
“So we just have to keep waiting, huh?”  
“Yep. I hate waiting.”  
“Me too. Waiting on Matt Casey to share is annoying. I think he failed kindergarten. He's a bad sharer.” She knew she was pouting kind of childishly, but she didn’t care. She especially didn’t care when it made Kelly smile again. Like Matt, he’d been way too serious lately. It was December. Times were supposed to be fun. Even if they were both worried about Matt and whatever mess he’d found himself in this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got about one-and-a-half chapters left to write. It's all plotted out, I just have to get it written and proofed. Believe it or not, I've written more than 70,000 words this month and it looks like I might clear 75,000 before the month is out! That is pretty much the recommended length for a fiction novel. so not bad for an amateur writer (who is semi-employed currently so once the quarantine is lifted in several weeks, there goes my writing time, but I can't complain because at least I know my job is waiting for me once we're back up and running).


	23. Christmas

She was a little nervous about Christmas. She’d never actually brought anyone back to Fowlerton before – of course, everyone already knew Harrison so it wasn’t like she had needed to really introduce him to people and everyone she had dated since had not really done the meet-the-parents thing, let alone the holiday-at-my-parents’-house thing. She knew Matt was nervous, too, but then, Matt was just jumpy in general anymore. He only ever really seemed relaxed at Molly’s and at his apartment. But he’d packed her car quite willingly before their shift on the 23rd, so they could leave right away on the 24th, and she’d seen presents (he’d wrapped himself even, or maybe paid to have them wrapped, at least he hadn’t asked her to do it) for her parents and her brother and his girlfriend. Okay, so willingly was a stretch, but that was only because he had wanted to take his truck but she refused because she got better gas mileage in her car and because she planned to drive, which he also argued about, but had had to back down when she called him out on the sexism of insisting he drive because he was the guy. She also wanted him to sleep in the car, but she was going to wait to spring that on him until this morning. They’d gotten permission to leave Matt’s truck at 51 and he was parking it now. She didn’t know why she was nervous. Mom insisted that she and Dad had both really liked Matt at Thanksgiving. Which was no surprise, because Matt was fantastic. He was also visibly exhausted, she could tell just watching him walk towards where she was waiting outside her car.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Matt asked, kissing her softly.

“I’m just wondering if subjecting you to my family is really the best idea. I mean, I really like you, and maybe it’s not too late to just hide out at your place for the holiday.”  
“Actually, it is.” Matt looked a little chagrined. “Severide’s mom is coming into town – she’s staying in my room.”  
“Oh my god, you changed the sheets, didn’t you?” She knew precisely what they’d been doing in that bed not all that long ago.

“Well, no, because I didn’t have time between that last round and when I had to leave for shift.” Matt shot her a very knowing look, one that might have tempted her to kiss it off his face if they weren’t on the sidewalk in front of the firehouse in broad daylight. And if they weren’t due in to her parents’ house for lunch.

“Matt! That’s his mom-“  
“ _His_ mom.” Matt chuckled as she swatted his shoulder. “I left the clean sheets out for Severide to put on, I think he can manage that. He’s been…a little oddly willing to do anything I ask him to lately. You two aren’t still fussing behind my back, are you?”  
“We are.” She admitted it freely. No ‘distance’ between them, as he’d asked for, gave her a total blank check to be utterly honest with him. Plus, she wanted him to know they were still worried. They might not be pushing him to tell them, but she wanted him to know every day that they were worried and wanted to listen, if he’d just open his mouth. “If we didn’t love you so much, we wouldn’t worry so much, so take the worry as a measure of love.”  
“We should probably get going. Though I’d rather take you back to bed, to be honest.”  
“Matt – that is an awful lot of dirty in your eyes, and your eyes should not promise me a check that your body can’t pay.”  
“Can’t pay?” He asked, eyebrows raised and looking a little offended. He pulled her to him and firehouse, broad daylight, strangers walking by be damned, he kissed her like he meant to devour her right there on the sidewalk. It took her a moment to realize he had picked her up and set her on the trunk of her car, her legs to either side of his hips, but once she did, she also remembered where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.

“Matt, we need to get on the road.” She managed, a little breathless as she pulled away from his mouth.

“Apparently, I need to prove-“  
“You have nothing to prove.” She assured him. “I meant that we need to go – and that you look tired. I want you to try to nap in the car.”  
“I’m not an old man yet.”  
“Definitely not. You just look like you had a lot of calls this shift and didn’t get much sleep.”  
“Not a lot, just a couple long ones.” He admitted, as he pulled away from her and then helped her hop down off the car. She didn’t actually need help, he was just gentlemanly like that. “House fire at 1 am. Guy passed out drunk while smoking in bed.”

“God, did he get out?” She asked, as she slipped into the driver’s seat and he got in the passenger side.

“ _He_ got out just fine.” Matt sounded angry. “His girlfriend’s three kids upstairs, though, we had to go get them. Six-year-old girl, four-year-old boy, and a two-year-old girl, scared to death, stairs full involved, had to use the aerial to get them. Smoke inhalation and scared mostly, thank fuck.”  
“Sounds intense, but not long.”  
“The two-year-old, screamed her head off every time I tried to hand her off to anyone, even the paramedics. She was so scared, shaking, and her brother was barely any better – he ended up inside my turnout coat he kept burrowing closer. The older girl was a little calmer, but there was no way I was leaving until mom got there.”  
“Was she at work?”  
“Yep – she’s apparently, uh, a dancer.”  
“She’s a stripper you mean. Unless she offered, and you accepted, a lapdance in repayment for your efforts, I can’t exactly get mad, Matt.”  
“She got there, and after she broke up with her boyfriend, she went with the kids to the hospital. Then we had to do overhaul still. Got off that one about 5 am. By the time we cleaned the gear, no point in hitting the rack.”

“Get some sleep, Matt. Seriously. Mom is going to have all sorts of things planned for the entire time we’re there. And I hope you were serious about being okay with sleeping on the sofa. Leo’s girlfriend is coming, too and Mom won’t let an unmarried couple share a room.”  
“Sylvie, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept on worse, I’m sure.”  
“I’m just saying, get some sleep on the drive. At least try to doze a little.”  
  


Matt chatted to her idly until they got to Merrillville, pretty much the edge of the Chicago metro area. She was pretty sure he’d talked more in that 45 minutes than he had in a few weeks combined (not about what she really wanted to know, which was what the hell was bothering him and going on up at that stupid firehouse) but that he only did it to stay awake while she drove through the city. He crapped out in Merrillville, and fell asleep leaning against the passenger window. She glanced over at him a few times as she drove south. He was adorable when he slept, and while most people looked stupid sleeping sitting up, doing the jello-neck-head-bob-thing, he was propped up and steady, just out cold – and not even breathing heavily, let alone snoring (which he sometimes did in bed, she hadn’t told him yet, but it was a relatively quiet kind of cute snore) or drooling or something embarrassing or unattractive. Nope. He had to be stupidly attractive even asleep like that. She let him sleep through most of their drive in Indiana, it wasn’t like the scenery was that special or unique, and she hadn’t been kidding about Mom having their day planned full. It wasn’t all that often Sylvie got home, and it was Christmas, and she was bringing home ‘a boy’ (Mom kept calling Matt that, which was silly, Matt was 38). She’d panicked a little because of course Mom was going to church, they were all going to church, except Matt wasn’t Methodist, Matt was Catholic. She’d told Mom, and Mom had acted like she’d announced she was dating a vegan or something truly exotic. His last name was Casey. He was Irish. In Chicago. She’d thought the Catholic thing would be self-evident.

She reached over to gently shake his shoulder when they’d just about reached Fairmount. It was only a few minutes to the farm from here, and she knew he would want a few minutes to shake off his nap.

“So, this is Indiana.”

“You’ve been to Indiana before.”

“Only to drive through on the interstate on the way to Detroit for Red Wings games, and once out to South Bend for a Notre Dame game.”

“Seriously?”  
“You know, Severide isn’t joking when he says I never left Chicago until I was old enough to drink, right?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re older now.”  
“And until you, I had no reason to ever visit Indiana.” Matt shrugged. “It looks pretty much like downstate Illinois.”  
“Sorry we didn’t paint is Hoosier crimson for you.”  
“Uh, that barn actually is. Big white IU logo on it, too. Must be fans.”  
“That’s the Cordrey’s place.” Sylvie knew it well. “I think every generation of their family has gone there or something. Dad says Jim Cordrey bought the place just to have horses – the fields he leases out, he doesn’t farm, he owns businesses up in Marion. Wait until you see the gold and black answer that the Mitchells have – they’re a Purdue family.”  
“So they painted their barn yellow?”  
“Gold, not yellow. Very important difference.”

“I love the Blackhawks, but I’m never actually painting my house to match their colors.”  
“College loyalty is different, I guess.” Sylvie shrugged. It seemed relatively normal to her – barns were often painted distinctively, well not often, but not rarely either.

“Do your parents have a team? I know your dad is a Colts fan.”

“Pacers, obviously for basketball. Cubs for baseball, mostly, he’s not a big baseball fan. I don’t know how much hockey he watches. Sorry.”  
“No, it’s fine. Football is always safe. And he’ll probably ask about work – I can tell a few firehouse stories.”  
“Not any that involve any danger to me, or serious danger to you.” Sylvie practically begged.

“I know.” He smiled gently at her. “I do the same thing with my mom, Sylvie. You don’t tell them the scary stuff. My mom doesn’t even know I had a cracked skull.”  
“You never told her?”  
“Why would I?” Matt looked genuinely confused. “She wasn’t exactly at my bedside, Sylvie. She has her own life now, she’s enjoying all the...stuff she missed out on.”

“You just don’t like her boyfriend.” Sylvie had figured that much out.

“I haven’t liked the few I’ve met, or any of the ones I’ve heard about. She has horrible taste, but then, I should expect that. She married Dad.”

“They can’t have been too horrible. They made you.” She said, as she pulled into the farm driveway. The house wasn’t set that far back from the road, the barns were arranged behind it, so she quickly pulled over into the parking area behind Leo’s car.

Sylvie took a strange satisfaction in seeing Leo’s girlfriend’s face when she introduced Matt. Allison had always been nice enough, but there was always a bit of an ‘your brother did better than you did, he got someone like me’ air to her, like Sylvie wouldn’t get anyone as relatively hot as Allison was. To be fair, Allison was very pretty, and despite growing up in Indianapolis, seemed pretty content to be preparing to take over the farm with Leo. They lived in Kokomo right now, where she worked. Sylvie liked Allison. She just also liked seeing that surprised and impressed ‘Sylvie scored a hottie’ look on her face. Because she _had_ scored a hottie. Leo also seemed impressed, maybe more by the size of Matt’s biceps than anything else, though (much as she loved Matt, he wasn’t the biggest guy in 51 even, especially since he’d lost weight recently, but still, impressive enough – and a lot stronger even than he looked, actually). Dad and Leo had helped bring the bags in, there was some manly ritual involved that said the women could not possibly help, so Sylvie left them to it.

Lunch was easy, mostly because everyone seemed to respect that Matt was clearly rather hungry – oh, he was polite and had good manners, but he ate three sandwiches and an impressive amount of Mom’s pasta salad and potato chips. Thankfully, Mom just took it as a compliment to the homemade roast beef, which it kind of was. Sylvie was just happy to see him eating plenty, because if he was low on sleep he at least needed good food to keep him fueled. Then, Mom’s activities started. It was a bit of a whirlwind, Sylvie had to admit – Christmas cookie decorating and building gingerbread houses, then a “quick run by church” to help set up the post-service reception, complete with dropping off the decorated cookies and gingerbread structures, kept them busy that afternoon.

“You know, I don’t think anyone has ever built a gingerbread candy factory instead of a house for the reception before. Ours is going to be the biggest brought in, for sure.” Sylvie informed Matt as he carefully set his (officially it was theirs, but really it was his) creation on one of the tables in the church hall. Sure enough, two of her mother’s ‘church lady’ friends were already hovering around, carefully inspecting Matt’s creation – it was about six of the kit houses Mom stockpiled repurposed and reconfigured, carefully built into a two-story candy factory complete with candy conveyor belts between windows and candy delivery trucks in the drive outside. Sylvie’s major contribution had been showing him how to quickly dye and put colored sugar on fondant disks to make a cool multicolored roof pattern. Matt leaned over to whisper in her ear,

“I do like being the biggest.” She couldn’t even respond to that with her mom’s friends right there.

“Sylvie Brett, this is beautiful. And who is this who’s delivering for you?”  
“He actually built most of it.” Sylvie corrected. “This is Matt Casey, he came with me to celebrate Christmas.”  
“From Chicago?”  
“Yes, ma’am, all my life.” Matt confirmed politely.

“Matt, this is Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. Bertram, they’re in the ladies auxiliary with my mom.”  
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Matt. Thank you for helping out.”  
“Happy to help, and it’s nice to meet you, too.” Matt smiled, and thankfully the two ladies walked away, though Sylvie had no doubt that they were now whispering about the guy she’d brought home from Chicago.

“They auction the gingerbread buildings off each year as a fundraiser. The money goes to the church food and charity bank – you know, food but also for like if someone has a fire or other damage during the winter.” Sylvie told him.

“You should’ve said, I could’ve gone bigger-“  
“Matt, in two hours you built the biggest gingerbread construction I’ve ever seen. And we got it beautifully decorated. And now you’re going to get stuck helping Mom and her friends decorate, we both will. This is why Leo was happy to send you along, so he didn’t have to come. You get to be on the ladder.”  
“Ladders are sort of my specialty.” Matt just smiled and shrugged. God, he was so handsome, especially when he was happy, and for right now, he was clearly happy, so she was just going to let herself revel. Why he was happy to be Mom’s servant at the church hall, she had no idea, but hey, if he was happy, she was good with it.

By the time they finished decorating the hall, it was time to go home for dinner. Mom always did a Crock Pot meal on Christmas Eve because she cooked up a storm on Christmas Day and then there was the church stuff always going on. It was usually some form of hearty soup that tasted great on a cold December evening. This year she’d made Irish stew, which was Dad’s favorite (otherwise Sylvie might be mortified that Mom had made it because Matt was Irish) and had gotten homemade bread from Mrs. Abernathy to go with it apparently. Thankfully, Mom had foreseen Matt’s continued appetite, because Sylvie was pretty sure he ate an entire loaf to himself, practically using it as a spoon for the stew. Mom looked very pleased that Matt was eating so well again – either she was just happy that her guest was happy or she had picked up on Sylvie’s concern about Matt’s weight loss. Hard knowing which one it was with Mom. After cleaning up from dinner, which Matt tried to help with but Mom kicked him out of the kitchen again, it was time to start getting ready for the Christmas Eve service. Mom wasn’t so strict about the ‘no sharing rooms’ thing when it was just about getting ready for church, so she and Matt changed in her childhood bedroom. He looked fondly around the room, grinning at the remnants of her earlier life (she hadn’t changed much in years, even before she moved out, so it kind of still looked like senior year of high school), but didn’t say much. He managed to shave around Allison and Leo in the hall bath (Sylvie was well-practiced at doing her make-up in her room, because Leo had always been a bathroom hog even when they were kids) but when he came back to her room she finally got an answer to a question that had been low-key plaguing her: why he always smelled so strongly of wood. His cologne was wood-scented. That was cheating. Except she didn’t really care, because he smelled fantastic. A little too fantastic for standing in her childhood bedroom, ready to head for church, with her parents about 4 feet away from them.

“You need a new cologne.” She sighed.

“I thought you liked this one.” He seemed completely confused.

“I love this one.” She admitted. “But it makes me want to do dirty things to you, which we can’t do, so you need a new cologne to wear on the times I can’t jump you. Also, mister, you are cheating, because I thought you just smelled like wood naturally.”  
“When you first said something, I, uh, didn’t have this yet.” Matt shrugged a little. “I went looking for it because of what you said.”  
“You bought a new cologne just because I said I like you smelling of sawdust – before we were even dating?” She kissed him out of sheer love for this silly wonderful man.

“I told you, I’m good with explicit directions, especially when you reward me so well.”  
“I do like you obedient.” She kissed him again, a little more to it this time, and of course that exact moment is when her bedroom door opened and her mother walked in.

“You two stop – we need to leave, or we’re going to be late.”  
“Sorry, Mom, but I got distracted by my handsome guy. We’re coming.” Sylvie tugged Matt’s hand, so he followed her out of the room. He was wearing the same outfit as he had to his birthday dinner and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get distracted by the memories of that night. Better to keep him behind her. Even if she had an idea that he might be looking at her butt in this pencil skirt.


	24. Christmas Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas chapter got away from me, so it ended up being two chapters instead of one quite long chapter.

“I would like to apologize for every time I teased you about being a little lost at Catholic funerals.” Matt half-whispered as they moved from the church to the church hall for the post-service reception and Christmas caroling. She had noticed Matt kept glancing at her in church, clearly trying to follow her lead on things, though thankfully the order of service cards had been printed up and were in the pews so he could also read along.

“You did fine. Except don’t think I didn’t notice you weren’t singing along.”  
“You have a great voice. I don’t.” Matt shrugged.

“Uh, I heard you at that concert, and I think you have a perfectly fine voice.”  
“Anyone can sound decent with a full-volume band, all you really hear is the band. I haven’t sung for anyone since I was in school.”  
“You used to sing? How old were you?”  
“It was before my voice even broke, Sylvie, I had a decent voice when I was a kid. That’s all.”

“It’s Christmas, even if you think you don’t sing well, you should sing along with the carols tonight. It’s half the fun, everyone being a little off-key.”  
“You know, I didn’t realize you were serious about your parents literally knowing every person in town.” Matt chuckled, nodding at where her parents were chatting to a large group of people, all moving slowly towards the church hall. “I think it’s nice. Not nice enough I’d want to move here, don’t get me wrong.”  
“I don’t even want to move here, and I know these people. I even like most of them. I just don’t…”  
“It’s okay. I’m a Chicago guy. You’re a Chicago girl now. It fits.”

“Yes, it does.” She leaned up to kiss him softly.

“You two.” Mom was suddenly next to them. “Every time I turn around you’re kissing each other. Come on, we have a party to start.”  
The Christmas caroling event always took hours. There were silent auctions for lots of things, including all the donated gingerbread houses, to raise money for the winter charity programs. People exchanged small gifts, and the sheer amount of baked goods that changed hands was amazing. She must’ve introduced Matt to half of Fowlerton, and the other half pretty much gawked for at least a couple minutes. She didn’t mind. Let ‘em talk. They couldn’t find any fault with Matt Casey. All in all, it was a great night, especially since Matt had actually blushed a little at how much positive attention his gingerbread factory got – it also raised the most money, unsurprisingly. So then after the winners of the silent auction were announced, people had to come back by to comment on the build again. Perhaps falling back on his time as an alderman, Matt had been perfectly gracious and even explained his construction to people who asked, though Sylvie noticed that he kept his hand locked around hers the entire time, keeping her tethered to his side. She didn’t mind. In fact, she was quite happy to let all of Fowlerton know exactly the kind of guy she’d found in Chicago. Unfortunately, as it got past ten o’clock, he was also visibly getting tired. He’d probably only slept a couple hours, and those in the car, for the last 40 hours or so.

“We don’t have to stay to clean up.” Sylvie told him, after most of the people had left. He was automatically starting to put up chairs and things as the clean-up crew started working. Typical of Matt, he just pitched in right away. She was about to explain to him just as Mom came over, holding of their coats and already wearing hers.

“Sylvie, Matt, time to head out. Matt, dear, you don’t have to do that. We did set-up, we don’t have to do clean-up.”

“Are you sure they don’t need help or anything?”  
“This is a well-oiled machine by this point, sweetie. Besides, you two must be tired, Sylvie said you were coming straight from shift, and you have to go back tomorrow to make it back for work on the twenty-sixth.”

“Plus, Mom will do homemade hot chocolate and we get to eat Christmas cookies when we get home.” Sylvie sweetened the pot a little to tempt him to not ask more questions about needing help, because if he asked Kellie Ross or Lacey Pruitt, or Mrs. Pruitt for that matter, they’d say of course they need help just so they could have more chances to stare at his butt, which looked very nice in this suit. Let them be jealous, but that butt and all the looking at it was hers.

“I guess I can’t turn that down.” Matt grinned and they quickly headed to their cars.

Matt was practically asleep by the time they all finished hot chocolate. Given he was the one without a room for the night, everyone else took the hint and also called it a night relatively early. Mom brought out the spare sheets and Matt insisted on making up the couch himself. At least he was in the living room, not the family room – no one would get any sleep in the room with the Christmas tree because Mom left it lit and had about 9000 lights on it. Still, she felt bad that he was so tired and was sleeping on a couch.

“Sylvie, don’t.” Matt cut off her thoughts. “I’m not taking your bed and leaving you out here.”  
“But you didn’t sleep on last shift because of that call, and I got several hours. So if-“  
“Nope.”  
“Is this enough blankets, Matt? You’ll be alright? That window leaks a little, it can get a little chilly in here.” Mom checked. Matt chuckled, but nodded.

“I’ll be alright, Mrs. Brett. I’ve slept a lot rougher than your pretty comfy-looking living room sofa.” Matt shook his head.

“We’ll see you in the morning then. Merry Christmas, Matt. Merry Christmas, Sylvie.” Mom leaned in to kiss Sylvie gently, but thankfully skipped that with Matt. He was pretty comfortable so far around her family, but for all his naturally affectionate nature with her, Sylvie had noticed he was pretty hands-off with people he didn’t know very well.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Brett.”  
“Good night, Mom.” Sylvie watched her head down the hall towards the bedrooms, then helped Matt finish arranging the bedding. Thankfully, he was a little less than six feet tall, so he’d mostly fit on the sofa.

“I don’t want you to be too tired when you’re back on shift-“  
“We’ll be back home tomorrow night.” Matt reminded her, starting to look pretty close to asleep on his feet. “Besides, I can sleep anywhere. I lived in a storage unit when I was eighteen, you know, so living room sofa is fine.”  
“You lived in a storage unit?” She kept her voice gentle, afraid that he’d stop sharing if she shook off his half-asleep state. He'd already changed into his pajamas. Normally he slept in his underwear, but of course, not at her parents’ house. He nodded his head as she helped guide him to sit, at least, on the sofa.

“Not too far from that house we looked at in Smith Park, actually.” He leaned up to kiss her softly. “Good night, babe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She had a hard time falling asleep that night. She was here, in her bedroom, looking at the walls she’d known pretty much her entire life before moving to Chicago, with all the safety they’d always promised her. All she could think about was Matt, eighteen years old, living in a storage unit, and so…blasé about it apparently. She’d known for years about his ‘family situation’ as the people at 51 always talked around it (no one wanted to gossip, but no one wanted a new person to ask some stupid question and hurt – or piss off – Casey unnecessarily either) but she’d never really considered what had happened to him after that. He was in high school. Who did he live with, who took care of him, did he end up in foster care? Was he…loved or cared for at all? Her heart broke thinking about her Matt, and yes he was hers now, who was kind and warm and good down to his bones, truly good, with just no one to tell him he mattered, that he didn’t deserve to be homeless and living in a storage unit, that none of it was his fault, or at least that things would get better. He mentioned extended family sometimes, and the aunt he’d lived with his senior year, and what about his sister in all this, and her thoughts just swirled for a while. She wondered how long he’d lived there, if he’d been there on a Christmas Eve like this one just twenty years earlier. She was tired, though, and eventually exhaustion caught up with her, and she slept.

She didn’t exactly sleep late, but at 8 am when she got up – and in true Christmas tradition wore her pajamas out to breakfast – everyone else was up. Leo had whatever video game console he owned now hooked up in the family room and he, Allison, Dad, and Matt were playing Mario Kart. Mom was in the kitchen making breakfast, looking pretty pleased at her view of her family on Christmas morning. Matt was the only one not in his pajamas, though he was still barefoot, looking relaxed with mussed hair and dressed in an old paint-speckled pair of jeans and a CFD t-shirt. At least she knew he wasn’t trying too hard to impress her parents and Dad wouldn’t think he was some sort of city-slicker who was always dressing up. He was also apparently really bad at Mario Kart, but he was also laughing at himself and she loved his laugh. He didn’t laugh nearly enough. She went into the kitchen to check if Mom needed any help.

“He’s doing just fine, Sylvie.” Mom nodded towards Matt. “I was pretty sure I liked him at Thanksgiving, but he’s fantastic, sweetheart. It’s hard to think he came from a family like you described.”  
“He’s been through a lot.” Sylvie knew far more about Matt’s various struggles than Mom did, or really ever needed to. “He’s a lot stronger than I think anyone knows. He’s not let it make him bitter, though, and that’s part of what I love about him. He’s such a good man, Mom.”  
“Have you met his family, yet?”  
“I’ve met his sister a couple times, but only briefly. I’ve met his niece more times than that, he and Violet get together for breakfasts or dinners once or twice a month. His mom isn’t in his life very much.” Sylvie short of shrugged in acceptance. She looked at what mom was cooking, and smiled. "You’re gonna need more bacon. Matt usually eats pretty healthy, but I think he thinks bacon is a food group. He says if eating too much bacon is what kills him, he wins life. Unless Dad and Leo have stopped eating bacon, you’re gonna need more.”

“I guess I’ll make more bacon.” Mom laughed lightly. “Don’t repeat that in front of your father, I don’t need him telling that to the doctors. Matt’s just a bit younger and more active than your father these days.”  
“Does Dad like him?” Sylvie asked after a moment. Dad had never liked Harrison, and she probably should’ve paid attention to that earlier in the relationship.

“He does. Oh, you know your father, he’ll never say that outright, but he does. He was impressed with him yesterday, you know. And I don’t just mean that miracle in gingerbread he managed. I mean how he treats you, how he talks to you, how he looks at you – and Sylvie, how much that man loves you. That’s all we wanted for you. Well, your father also likes that he has a stable income, you know he worries about how expensive it is to live in a big city like Chicago.”  
“I don’t need Matt to take care of me.” Sylvie replied. “At least, not financially. I think…I’ve come to depend on him in a lot of other ways, though. But it feels natural, like finding a new balance that I’ve been looking for, a support that helps me build higher from a stronger foundation. Is that really corny?”  
“No.” Her mom was almost crying, though. “That’s love, baby girl. That’s the kind of man you marry.”

Her mom’s words kept playing in her head off and on throughout the rest of the day. They opened presents before anyone besides Matt even got out of pajamas and they gorged themselves on food all day, and broke out some of the presents to play with just like they were little kids. Matt was great at jigsaw puzzles, which Mom liked because no one else really loved them like she did. He was a ruthless _Uno_ player but an incredibly apologetic _Sorry_ player. He was great at _Clue_. He showed Dad and Leo at least two repairs the house needed (okay, one needed window repair and one renovation project Mom wanted done but Matt had pointed out that the kitchen was getting to the point it needed new flooring), and somehow he did it without Dad taking any offense. No, Dad seemed grateful for the advice, and asked what he should be looking for in a guy to fix it. Basically, it was a perfect Christmas Day. She wasn’t all that excited to leave after dinner. Mom had loaded them down with leftovers, though, so at least one part of Christmas was traveling with them. They left after a round of hugs and handshakes, and Mom hugged Matt this time, and he looked surprised but pleasantly so. Sylvie was happy enough she let Matt drive back to Chicago, content to revel in the lingering feelings of another great family holiday.

“Sylvie, you mind going straight to mine? I know, the leftovers-“  
“Are probably safer in Severide’s fridge than in mine. I love Otis and Cruz, but they’ll jump on a Mom-made meal faster than you can blink. It’s fine, Matt.”  
“I’ll just ride to 51 with you in the morning and take my truck up to 29.”  
“God, 29.” Sylvie had successfully _not_ thought about the mess up there for the last two days basically. “Three more weeks, right?”  
“Yep.” Matt turned a little, keeping his eyes on traffic but also looking at her. “We can survive anything for three more weeks. Then I’ll be back at 51 and you’ll see so much of me you’ll be sick of me.”  
“That will never happen.” Sylvie paused, then smiled as she teased him, “Everyone’s missed you. I think they even miss your drills. Mostly, we miss your handsome face.”  
“Uh-huh. I bet the guys are all thinking about how much they miss my ‘handsome face’.” Matt laughed, shaking his head.

“They just miss you, Matt. You’re ours. 29 can’t have you.”  
“Really? Possessive much?”  
“I am. You're mine, Matt Casey. I own you now.” She leaned over, cursing the center console a little because his truck was better for this sort of thing. She ran her hand up his thigh, then moved over to the bulge at his groin. “Especially this part, and I plan to prove that to you just as soon as you get us back to your bedroom.”  
“ _Why_ is there this much traffic at 10 pm on Christmas Day?” He asked almost plaintively, but he was grinning at her as he said it.


	25. A Stupid Prank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: those who have dealt with traumatic invasions of privacy, especially the nonconsensual dissemination of private images, this warning is for you. It doesn't go too into depth, I don't think, in regards to emotional reactions by the victim, but if this is likely to cause you grief, anxiety, or any related emotions, you might...want to wait and skip to Chapter 29 when I post that.

All of the second shift at 51 had been invited to one of the biggest New Years’ Eve parties in Chicago, held at Navy Pier and thus guaranteed to offer a great view of the fireworks show. The gala was honoring first responders for the year, and several firehouses had been selected to represent the CFD at the party. Second watch had to work at 8 am the next day, though, so she was pretty certain that no one was going to be drinking too heavily particularly not in full view of the bosses, who were all going to be there. It was, for her, a wonderful excuse to get really dressed up with her friends and feel glamorous. So they all went dress shopping, and she opted for something in the same shade of red as Matt’s favorite things to go underneath the dress. It was a little risqué, but not so much that she was going to feel bad if they ran into Commissioner Grissom or someone like that. She got exactly the effect she wanted when she arrived at the loft – Severide looked impressed when he opened the door, and Matt looked like he was more tempted than anything else, and that was the facial expression (and feeling) she was going for.

Matt had arranged a car service for them, saying he didn’t want to mess with a taxi and definitely not trying to park down by the Pier tonight. They also all agreed to leave at 12:15 precisely, so they could hopefully be in bed by 1 to get up at 6:30 to make shift. Once they arrived at the party, they managed to find the rest of 51 fairly quickly. Unfortunately, that meant she found Emily quickly, and God love Foster, but Sylvie always seemed to end up drinking too much when Emily wanted a party. Matt was busily trying to keep an eye on 51 and apparently 29 as well, who had also been invited. He introduced her as his girlfriend to some of the guys from 29, which made her weirdly proud. Not that she had expected him not to, it was just nice being officially known by more people than their friends at 51 as Matt Casey’s girlfriend. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of some of their faces – shock was the most common reaction, unease though on a few faces, and couple looked almost angry or something. She brushed it off, though, just happy to be with Matt.

She must not be the only one of them who’d been drinking a bit, because she actually got Matt to dance with her. He was not the best dancer, but he was also far from the worst – the closer they got to being completely inappropriate for an event where they were representing the CFD the better he was actually. This was not a ‘gala’ with ballroom dancing, this was a New Year’s Eve party with club music, which she liked because it gave her an excuse to dance up against him on some of the songs. If she caught him looking at her cleavage a few times, well, that was kind of the point of a neckline this plunging, and besides he kind of had the right, just like she kind of had the right to let her hands wander a little lower than his back sometimes. Mostly, though, they just enjoyed a night out with the rest of their house. She was drunk enough to get affectionate, but no one minded her kissing Matt a few times, or his possessive arm around her almost the entire night.

“Matthew, it’s good to see you.” Sylvie didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Matt tensed a little, but his voice stayed even as they turned to face his current boss. Chief Gayan looked very nice, Sylvie had to admit, even if she did dislike the other woman. She didn’t know her except through Matt, but that was enough.

“Chief Gayan, good to see you, too.”  
“Terry, you’ve heard me mention Matthew. Matthew, this is my husband, Terry Anderson.”  
“Very nice to meet you, Matthew. My wife has only good things to say about you.” Matt shook the man’s hand politely, but she could tell there was something he didn’t like about this situation. She just didn’t have a clue what it was. “In fact, if she had her way, I think you’d be a permanent addition into our house.”  
“She has made that clear.” Matt replied evenly. “Chief Gayan, Mr. Anderson-“  
“Terry, please.”  
“This is my girlfriend, Sylvie Brett.” More pleasantries were exchanged, but she could see something a little unpleasant beneath it all in the other couple’s eyes. There was something really weird going on here. Matt turned slightly over his shoulder, and indicated to Chief Boden. “And this is Chief Wallace Boden, my boss at 51, and his lovely wife, Donna.”  
“Ah, the gentleman who’s holding up my efforts to have you brought over to 29 permanently.” Chief Gayan announced, and Sylvie could practically feel the shock ripple through everyone from 51. Maybe that was what had been going on with Matt all this time, he was too damn good at his job and his new chief wanted to make his move permanent. Sure, Dvorak was inoffensive enough, but everyone at 51 wanted Casey back, no one more than her and Kelly Severide, who looked surprised and also a little pissed at this revelation.

“That would be me.” Chief admitted easily. “I’m afraid Captain Casey is not on the free agent list – once Polanshek is back at 29, I need him back at 51. I have a lieutenant in his spot currently, and 51 is short a captain in the house.”  
“I’m trying to convince headquarters for a swap – you get Captain Polanshek – so it’d be an even trade. I need younger blood in the house.” Chief Gayan answered back immediately. “Matthew has done wonders for us. I’ve been trying to pressure him into staying on, but he seems very attached to 51. Now I see why.”

“Well, Captain Casey has been at 51 a lot of years. We’ve built up a certain rapport around the house.” Boden kept his tone light, but Sylvie could tell that he was basically trying to warn Chief Gayan off. Good. Matt was staying right here, with her, or well, at 51, with her. She tightened her hold on his waist as if he was going to be pulled away right now. Nope, not happening. They could just stamp House 51 and Sylvie Brett on his ass because he was spoken for.

“You can hardly blame me for trying. He’s certainly a very fine firefighter, a great asset to have in my…tool-belt, you might say.” Chief Gayan’s words were polite, but again, there was something very passive aggressive about her tone that just set Sylvie on edge. And her husband was looking at Matt oddly, Sylvie couldn’t place the expression quite. The couple walked away from the grouping of 51 then, though, and Matt sighed before turning back to face everyone.

“You never said she was trying to shanghai you, Case.” Leave it to Kelly to make that sound like an accusation.

“It’s not happening. Got Grissom’s personal word on that one – I’m back at 51 the shift after Polanshek is cleared.”  
“Her husband seems familiar.” Mouch mused aloud.

“Terry Anderson, he’s a big real estate developer. He’s a major donor to a ton of things, especially local political campaigns.”  
“Know him from your time as an alderman?” Herrmann asked.

“Of him. I wasn’t around long enough to get the sort of donations he makes.” Matt shrugged.

“You didn’t seriously consider leaving 51, did you?” Foster asked.

“Not for a second.” Matt replied, but he was smiling and looking right at Sylvie. “I’m not leaving Truck 81, or House 51-“  
“or Ambulance 61?” Kelly asked with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good decision, man.”  
“Not even a decision, there was never a question.”

Shift on New Year’s Day was always interesting. Ambulance was easily the busiest of all the vehicles, and they barely seemed to stop in at 51. She had just enough time at dinner to take a lot of good-natured teasing about her midnight kiss with Casey (which had, admittedly, gotten a little intense, but hardly worthy of this much teasing) before they were back out on runs. She hadn’t had so much as a text from Matt in the whole 24 hours, which was unusual, but she presumed he was just busy, too. She did at least get a short text from him that he had an appointment that morning, but he wanted to stop by and talk to her about something around noon, if she wanted to do lunch. She sent back an affirmative response, then decided to take a nap since she’d gotten relatively little sleep on shift. She had just about dozed off when she got a call from, of all people, Allison.

“Hi, Allison.”  
“Hi, Sylvie. I hope, I mean, you’re not working are you? I’m not interrupting?”  
“No, I just got off shift this morning. What’s up?”  
“Have you checked your Facebook recently?”  
“Not in a few days.” She admitted, though she was usually a bit better about checking in once a day or so. “Did something happen?”  
“Uh, you could say that. I guess. Leo doesn’t, I think he doesn’t know how to, well, I don’t either, but anyway, you’re going to want to check it. But I wanted to warn you. You know. I mean, I liked Matt, but this is…I don’t know if he’s been hacked, I kinda hope so.”  
“Matt?”  
“Yeah, his Facebook, Sylvie…and he tagged you in it, that’s how we all figured out it was his account because you know, I wasn’t looking for him but when he tagged you the first time on New Year’s Eve, I friended him because he seemed really cool and nice when he was here. And you seem really into him.”  
“Let me pull it up, give me a sec.”  
“It’s kinda bad, Sylvie. I mean, just to warn you. Your mom saw it. I think my mom saw it. Everyone’s seen it.”  
“Seen what?” Sylvie asked as her computer powered up.

“It’ll be on your wall. You were tagged. Which you should change your settings to where you have to accept a tag for it to hit your wall, you know.”  
“I’m so confused right now.” Sylvie muttered as she pulled up her Facebook. Her brain just froze for a second. She couldn’t even immediately understand what her eyes were seeing. Because that was definitely Matt, and he was definitely fully nude, and he’d tagged her in the photos because…oh the captions made it worse. They were filthy and something slammed into her brain suddenly and was out of her mouth the next instant. “That’s not Matt.”  
“Sylvie, that is Matt.”  
“No, the picture, that’s Matt, but this whole page, it’s…Matt doesn’t have Facebook.”  
“Yeah, the account is like 3 days old, Sylvie – he said in his first post he’s just getting into it, which, I mean, where’s he been for a decade or so. I only have Facebook because like my cousins have it and that’s where they do most of their updates instead of the better apps. But he’s kinda old, so Facebook maybe seems new to him.”  
“No, Allison,” Sylvie finally was able to organize her thoughts more, “Matt does not have Facebook right now, either. He hates social media. He doesn’t believe in it. He says it’s invasive and self-important and basically mass hysteria. And he’d never do this. He’d never…he wouldn’t even send me a picture like that, let alone brag about…this stuff on the internet!”

“Well, someone did. And they tagged you. Which you know, undo that part, right now.”

“Yeah, good idea.” She clicked on the necessary things to remove the tags for her, and went one step farther and just blocked that account entirely because whoever it was that had…how had anyone even gotten those photos of Matt? They didn’t look old, and besides, Matt would never have taken pictures like that. Not ever. He didn’t really like having his picture taken at all, she couldn’t even imagine him doing shirtless pics, let alone things that explicit. “Allison, unfriend and block that account. Tell everyone to do so, if they’ve friended whoever it is. That’s not Matt.”  
“Sylvie, those pics are Matt. Or someone with some fantastic photoshop skills.”  
“That’s not Matt. It’s Matt face, but that’s not Matt. I promise you. Oh, God, I have to call Mom don’t I?”  
“Oh, she’s probably going to call you, once she decides if she’s going to lead a march of angry church ladies up to Chicago to hunt down Matt.”  
“Oh, no. I have to call her. And him, maybe him first. This is…I can’t believe this. Who would even do that? I mean, what’s the point? Pretending to be Matt? Oh, can you see how many friends does this account have? I forgot to check for mutuals before I blocked.”

“I don’t know any of your friends in Chicago so I can’t really see that, but it looks like a few people at least from Fowlerton.”  
“The account is days old, you said.”  
“He tagged you in a really cute New Year’s Eve pic.” She could pretty much hear Allison shrugging. “And those pics were clearly really the two of you. Maybe that’s where they got the face to put on that other body. It looked like a big party though, so that’s probably not helpful in finding out who it was, huh?”  
“No, it was…the gala is really big. I need to report this account. Thanks for letting me know about it, I really appreciate it.” She sighed, her hopes of a quiet day having just exploded. If Mom was upset, and of course she would be, if the church ladies who’d like Matt so much at Christmas had all seen _that_ , Sylvie was upset, let alone Mom.

“Those pics just went up like late last night. We saw them this morning. So…the tag didn’t last too long at least. I’m sorry, Sylvie. He seemed like a nice guy.”  
“He _is_ a great guy. That’s not him.”

“I guess you’d know. Talk to you later, bye.”

“Bye.” Sylvie sighed again. Oh, what a mess. And to make matters worse, despite what she’d just told Allison, those pictures were definitely Matt, really Matt. She just couldn’t figure out who had taken them. If she didn’t know Matt so well, hadn’t known him so well for so long, she’d be worried about who he was with and what he was doing, but for all of Matt Casey’s faults, infidelity was not among them. Not even a speck of it. He was intensely loyal, it was probably the biggest thing he and Kelly had in common. Oh, hell. She needed those pictures, or copies of them at least. She unblocked the account, and copied the photos quickly onto her computer. She’d have to wipe and like disinfect it later. Then, she quickly scrolled through the friends list, grateful that she recognized only two names from Chicago, and one of those was Lily, the other was Christie. She texted Lily immediately telling her that it was a fake account and to block it. Lily of course did so, only after looking at the first pic (of Matt’s bare ass) and saying she’d gotten a winner, which Sylvie swore Matt would never, ever, ever know about. Lily said she hadn’t looked farther than that one, since Sylvie had said they were explicit. So one down. She didn’t have Christie’s number. She just hoped Christie didn’t check her account very often, so Matt would have time to get a message to her. She then went through the process of reporting the account to Facebook, both for impersonating Matt and also for the nudity just in case one report wasn’t enough. Hopefully it would get suspended quickly so no one else could see any of that. She spent the rest of the morning, now that she was all keyed up and wide awake, checking for any other fake accounts in his name on other social media. There weren’t any that she could find, thank God. She still was not in the best of moods when Matt knocked on the door to her apartment.

“I’m sorry.” He led with that, which actually only made her more upset. “I’m sorry, whatever I did, I’m sorry and if you could just explain to me, I promise that I will never do it again, I just don’t know what your mom was talking about, so I know it’s my fault and I know I’m sorry, I just need to know exactly how sorry I am and for how long I need to be sorry.”

“My mom?”  
“She called me. I didn’t even give her my number. But she was really upset and she said something about Facebook, but I don’t even have a Facebook, and there was a lot about…it’s been a long time since I’ve been called that many unpleasant things. So I’m just confused. I’m really sorry, but also confused.”

“You’re sorry, but you don’t know why you’re sorry.” Sylvie shook her head slightly. She hadn’t needed any confirmation that it was a fraudulent account, but she supposed there it was. She was just upset that he apologized so readily. There was something off about it, the way he didn't even really stick up for himself, just said he was sorry right away without even knowing what he was supposed to be sorry for, he was willing to say it was his fault and he was sorry. 

“If you’re half as upset as your mom, I am absolutely sorry. I know I fucked up, and I won’t…I know my track record doesn’t really back this up, but I will do better, I promise.”  
“Matt.” She realized something important in that split second. “Matt, do you think I’m breaking up with you?”  
“I’m pretty sure it’s on the table, at least.”  
“Well, it’s not.”  
“Your mom-“  
“My mom called you before she called me. And I should’ve called her. I didn’t think she’d call you directly about it.”  
“About what?”  
“Sit down.”

“Okay.” He looked uncertain, but he obediently sat in the chair she’d just vacated in front of her computer. She pulled up the photos she’d saved and watched him go so pale she was certain he could pass for a corpse. There wasn’t the shock she expected, or at least, not the right kind of shock. Which made her feel worse, actually.

“Matt, what is going on?”  
“Where did you get these?”  
“They were posted to a Facebook account pretending to be you. I was tagged in a pretty explicit post about…implying I took these and yeah, it was explicit about what we were doing. It was really explicit. But you didn’t ask who took them. You asked how I got them.”  
“I, uh…I know where they were taken.”  
“Now is the time to be completely honest with me, Matt.”  
“This fake account, is it…still up?”  
“I reported it because I know you and those photos are not you. I mean, physically, that’s you, but Matt, this is not you. So what the hell is going on, where were these taken, when, and by whom?”  
“They were taken on shift at 29.” Matt confessed after a deep breath. “That’s the shower room at 29 and the locker room at 29 in the photos.”  
“Did you know about these?”

“Only that one.” He pointed to the one that was fully frontal and he was a good way to hard. Now that her attention wasn’t just on his dick and the fact that it was so very visible, she realized his facial expression was far from aroused, he looked pissed off. “That’s the only one I know who took it, too. Keen took it, as a ‘prank’. I told him to delete it, I _watched_ him delete it, and I wrote him up for it – I was in the fucking shower, there’s rules about cameras or phones in that whole area of any firehouse. Chief Gayan was supposed to handle it.”  
“You were, uh, clearly ‘busy’ on that shift.”  
“No, actually, I wasn’t. That just happens sometimes in the shower. If I’m at home, I can take care of it, but not at work – that seems weird. And would probably be the exact minute the bells go off.”

“You are calmer than I thought you’d be.” She was really surprised by that.

“I think it’s relief that you’re not dumping me. Give my brain time to reload.” Matt half laughed, half shook his head. “Oh, fuck, your mom…your _mom_ saw these? Tell me I never have to look her in the eye again.”  
“Well, you’re partially in the clear on that, I think.”  
“She never wants to see me again, yeah, that was clear on the phone.”  
“God, she was awful, wasn’t she? She’s really protective of-“  
“It’s okay.” Matt said it was okay but his body language still said he’d been upset by what was said. She knew he’d been happy and proud that her family had liked him, pleased in a way that she sort of found sad because it seemed like he wasn’t used to thinking people liked him, and getting an earful from an angry Mom had to have hurt.

“It’s not okay, and we’ll talk about that later, but I told Allison-“  
“Allison saw them?!”  
“Half of Fowlerton has probably seen or heard about them by now. Luckily, most everyone in Chicago apparently knew better than to think our Matt Casey had a Facebook profile – and I got a hold of Lily already, but you need to contact Christie.”  
“ _Christie_ ’s seen them?!” There was the fully horrified utter humiliation she’d expected. Apparently it just took him a minute to get there. Then again, she tried to imagine if Leo had seen naked sexual pictures of her. Yeah, wishing for a merciful death seemed to be about the right reaction.

“Only if she’s checked her Facebook in the last few hours. I reported it, so they may be down before she even gets the chance.”  
“Can I kill Keen?”  
“Not in public.” She replied, only joking a little bit. If whoever this Keen was had done this, she wanted to cut his throat. No, too quick. Something slower. Because this was an awful thing to do to anyone, ever, especially someone who was supposed to be able to trust you, a colleague in a dangerous job like theirs, and to betray the inherent implied trust between firefighters was a big deal. Those guys spent so much time in each other’s pockets, the guys on a truck or engine or squad together, they had to trust each other implicitly. “You need to report this. If you know who took that one, he probably somehow took the others, too, and you have to contact the department, Matt. If nothing else, what if he’s done it, taken pictures I mean, to other people? He did it at work. That’s all sorts of wrong.”  
“This seems so…big for Keen. But yeah, clearly I have to report it. God, that’s just the mark I need on my record with downtown.”

“Well…” Sylvie tried to find some silver lining, no matter how thin, “at least Grissom has found his problem at the house, right? I mean, this kind of guy would kill morale and lead to the high turnover for sure.”

“Is your dad going to shoot me?”  
“I’ll talk to Mom and Dad. Explain it was all faked, fake account and everything.” Sylvie reassured him, kissing the top of his head softly. “I already lied and told Allison they were photoshopped, that it was your face on another body. Hopefully that gets around Fowlerton quickly. But that’s what I don’t understand, Matt.”  
“What?”  
“If this was an attack on _you_ , why tag me? Why use Facebook at all? I mean, whoever did it should have known that pretty much everyone who knows you would never believe you had Facebook to begin with. You hate social media. Everyone knows that. So your friends wouldn’t see it, people who know you wouldn’t see it. So it’s not likely to hurt you.”  
“It managed to. Your whole family and everyone you grew up with has seen…that. Frankly, I don’t even care at this point about why. I’m just…going to never go back to Fowlerton and dodge your mother, and apparently Allison, for the rest of my life. And did you say Lily? Otis already is-“  
“I texted her, she unfriended, sight unseen.” Well, mostly unseen, but he’d feel better with that tiny little lie. So sometimes she was willing to risk a tiny bit of distance between them, okay? Sue her. This was awful enough without adding that little bit. And even if Matt said he didn’t care, she cared, and she was going to get to the bottom of this awful ‘prank’. She just had to figure out how to do that, without embarrassing Matt any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still not quite done with what was going on at 29. In fact, I won't entirely wrap it up in this story, or at least, not the ramifications of it. 
> 
> I welcome constructive criticism of any portrayals of events, incidents, emotions, or reactions that I portray.


	26. Back for Good

The next two weeks it seemed like she barely saw Matt. If he wasn’t on shift (how in hell he still had to work at 29 after he’d reported what happened, she couldn’t figure, except that he said Keen had been suspended so there was that) he was at meetings downtown. Plus, Rafferty had the flu, so there had been some overtime Sylvie had picked up, too. Some nights she managed to sleep in the same bed as him, but that actually seemed like an accomplishment which just proved how crazy things had been. There were really only two bits of good news: Christie had apparently had no clue what he was talking about when he contacted her about the fake profile (she’d known she’d friended it, but hadn’t seen the new posts) and Facebook had come through on their investigation or whatever and taken down the fake profile. Well, a sort of good news bit was also that Mom had eventually believed her that the pictures and the profile weren’t Matt, that someone had played a really cruel prank, that it was his face pasted on some other body, but she was still leery about Matt now so it was only a partial victory. Dad had seemed mostly baffled (he hadn’t, thankfully, actually seen the photos) and pointed out that this was the danger of all these websites. Sylvie had pointed out Matt actually agreed, which was why he didn’t have any of the social media sites or apps. The last two conversations with her parents, they’d skillfully avoided any mention of Matt at all. So…it only counted as sort of maybe good news? At least she wasn’t still livid anyway.

The night of January 15, she had dinner at the loft with Matt, Kelly, and Stella. Sylvie knew they were all as anxious as she was. No one wanted to just sit around and wait, so they turned on hockey, cracked some beers, and yelled at the match. Thankfully, the Blackhawks were pretty comfortably beating the Canadiens by the end of the first period so it wasn’t a stressful match. Halfway through the second period, Matt’s cell phone rang. They all tried to act normally, but no one was paying any attention to the match as Matt stepped away from the sound of the television to answer it.

“Casey.”

“How’d your appointment go?”  
“No, yeah, of course.”  
“Yeah, no, I understand. It’s the smart decision for you.” Sylvie got a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she looked at Kelly, who had an expression on his face that said he had the same bad feeling in his gut.

“It’s fine. No. No problem. It makes sense.”

“Yeah, you too.” Matt ended the phone call, and after a moment, walked back towards them. He looked…yeah, that was not a good look on his face. Kelly muted the television, no one cared about the Blackhawks right now. Matt shook his head, and shrugged.

“That was Polanshek. He’s not going back to 29.”

“I thought his knee was pretty much guaranteed to clear.” Kelly sounded pissed. Sylvie was mostly…not quite heartbroken, but a little confused and disappointed and not even sure if this mattered. Because it didn’t necessarily mean Matt wasn’t coming back to 51. Did it?

“He took a move to the Bureau of Fire Prevention – doing code enforcement. It’s the safer option, and yeah, a man his age, all that crap.”  
“So, what, you’re stuck in his spot permanently?” Stella asked.  
“I don’t know. That’s what Polanshek thought. He said when talked to Chief Gayan, that’s what she’d requested.” Matt shrugged again. Kelly’s imminent explosion was cut off when Matt’s phone rang again. He looked at the screen to check the caller, threw a confused look at all of them, and then stepped away to answer it. Sylvie couldn’t figure why he bothered, Kelly wasn’t about to turn the TV’s sound back on so they could all hear his half of the conversation anyway.

“Casey.”  
“Yes, sir. He just called.”  
“Polanshek mentioned that Chief Gayan requested that.”  
“I guess he talked to her, I didn’t ask a lot of questions about it.”  
“Of course, sir. I’ll serve wherever the department needs me.”

“No, sir, I understand.”  
“I understand, sir. I know these sorts of decisions are not taken lightly.”  
“You’re asking for my recommendation for the spot?” Matt paused, but she figured he was thinking instead of listening this time. “Captain Halvorsen, from up at 102. I’ve known him a few years, he runs a tight ship and he’s used to working in a house with a chief in it, not having free rein in a house.”  
“Chief Boden agreed with that?”  
“It’s all signed, then, and official?” Sylvie thought she was going to hurl. It wasn’t that she missed Matt, she absolutely did, of course, but he was so unhappy at 29, and with everything that had happened up there, his injuries and the Facebook thing, he had to come back to 51. He had to.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for calling and letting me know, Commissioner.” Matt ended this call as well, and she almost threw a pillow at him when he didn’t turn around and come talk to them right away. They were all anxious here, stop clamming up, Matt Casey. He did finally turn around and move back towards them, this time his expression was more just surprise or something close to that.

“That was Grissom. He authorized my transfer about half an hour ago.” A smile spread across Matt’s face. “I’m officially, permanently, back at 51 at 8 am tomorrow.”  
“What? That’s amazing!” It wasn’t at all what she’d expected from what she’d overheard and she was so happy she jumped up from the sofa, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He caught her easily, of course, and she kissed him soundly out of sheer relief.

“What was all that about your recommendation for the spot?” Kelly asked, though he was grinning happily, as was Stella.

“For 29, the permanent replacement for Polanshek. It’s…I can’t tell you everything yet, guys. I’m sorry. But it turns out, Polanshek’s move wasn’t all that voluntary, headquarters said he could take early retirement at reduced pension or he could take the move.”  
“I don’t care about Polanshek or anyone else involved just that you’re going to be back at 51.” Sylvie told him, kissing him soundly again.

“I’m back on 81.” Matt almost repeated, half to himself.

“Glad to have you back, man. Dvorak was decent, but it’s not the same without you.”  
“Hey, can we send out the word to the rest of the guys or we gotta wait ‘til tomorrow?” Stella asked. “I know Otis and Mouch especially are ready for you to be back.”  
“Yeah, send it out, it’s official now. Oh, that’s the other news. The city is putting a fifth guy on our rig again. We’ll have another new guy in a couple weeks or so.”  
“Tell me they’re not bringing over someone from 29.”  
“No idea, didn’t sound like he’s a candidate, though.”  
“Again, I don’t care, as long as you are back.” Sylvie repeated. “Let’s go to bed.”  
“It’s 8:30.” Matt replied, sounding confused for a second. This time, Kelly did actually chuck something at him – a crumpled up napkin from the snacks they’d had with the game.

“How were you ever married, man? Take her to bed, dumbass. We’ll turn the volume up out here.” Just in case Kelly wasn’t clear enough, she kissed him again, this time slipping her tongue into his mouth and she let her hand slip from his back to his butt.

“Goodnight, see you in the morning.” Matt said in a rush, as he tugged her towards the bedroom. She didn’t care that it was far from subtle, what they were going to do. She had a feeling Kelly and Stella might follow their lead anyway, but mostly, she just wanted to celebrate and she could think of few things more celebratory than this.

Matt’s return to 51 had been roughly anticipated, but she, Stella, and Kelly had kept a lid on the projected date because so much had hinged – they thought – on Polanshek’s medical clearance which could have had some variance to it. She kind of wished they’d had the chance to say ‘bye’ to Dvorak, who’d after all been in their house for months, but he’d never been very friendly so he probably didn’t expect it. He’d never even stopped by Molly’s. Nonetheless, she knew Stella had meant it when she said last night she was going to send the word out to the rest of the guys in the house. So she was expecting some sort of welcome back, even if it would be pretty rushed because they only had a little under 12 hours to plan anything. Matt had sworn he didn’t want any fuss, just to be reunited with his truck. He had a slightly unhealthy affection for that vehicle. It was kind of adorable. So she was not all that surprised when he walked back into 51 that morning and sort of paused, then lightly ran his fingers along 81, including a more solid tap to the fighting goat emblem. He was smiling, but it was a sort of wet smile. She wasn’t going to say anything, and she knew Kelly wouldn’t either. Stella had gone ahead into house – probably part of some plot. So it was actually surprising when, aside from enthusiastic hellos and welcome backs, and some appropriately manly hugs and back-slapping, there really wasn’t any fuss about Matt being back. Matt disappeared towards his quarters, and she could tell something was up because the guys all waited around sort of anxiously instead of going back to any tasks or heading in for the morning briefing. Laughter and a lot of victorious cheering erupted when they could just hear, from the other end of the firehouse, Casey uncharacteristically cussing. So, clearly, they’d managed something. Before she could go investigate, they had to head to the morning briefing.

“All right, everyone,” Chief Boden announced as he came into the room. “First things first, welcome back, Captain Casey.” Clapping and cheering broke out, lasting just about half a minute then tapering off. “Your paperwork is waiting in my office, I’ll have my assistant bring it by your quarters after the briefing.”  
“Ah, Chief, about that-“  
“Don’t worry, I saved all of the personnel requests for you and the last three weeks of logs for Truck 81. Just to help you readjust to being back.” More laughter, and Sylvie couldn’t help joining in. Matt just threw up his hands, shook his head, and chuckled as well. The rest of the briefing was quick, and she had time to run by Matt’s quarters afterwards. She stopped, took in the sight, and started laughing again. Somehow, they had found at least 20 different patterns and colors of duct tape and covered the entire room – windows, walls, desk, chair, and, yes, she could see from peeking in the door, even the bed and the pillow.

“If you’re wondering, it’s apparently some sort of reference to duct tape as a contractor’s best friend. Which it isn’t really.” Matt appeared behind her. “It is kind of funny, except I have to figure out how to get this much duct tape and the residue off everything.”  
“I didn’t even know there were this many patterns of duct tape.”  
“Neither did I. But then, I’ve never needed to use duct tape with little daisies on it.” Matt pointed at one of the patterns. It was kind of cute, black with yellow and white daisies. “I’ve just been using the boring original gray stuff.”  
“That’s what you get for being a professional. Boring, useful, stuff.” She smiled, kissing him softly. “Welcome back.”  
#Truck 81, vehicle accident at 18th and Allport.# The bells went off, and he smiled before moving quickly towards the apparatus floor. The call wouldn’t be that different, she was sure, than ones he’d been on while he was at 29, but it would feel different. He was back where he belonged.

The morning and afternoon were slammed with calls. Ambo had been busy, but Truck 81 had literally only been in the bay a total of 30 minutes all day, including the first 10 minutes of shift. So she’d barely seen Matt, for all the excitement she’d had of having him back in house. Ambo had been on several of those calls, though, so she’d gotten work with him again, and keep an eye on him, and she could tell that Kelly was more comfortable, too, with his Squad being the one called to help out or in worst cases save Casey’s ass. She was not prepared to come back from a late afternoon call to a fully-decorated common room that was packed with a lot of familiar faces – the whole Herrmann clan, Donna and Terrence Boden, Chloe, Lily, Trudy, everyone’s partner had apparently come over. There were streamers, balloons, and a fantastic amount of food. Ritter had been assigned to be look-out apparently, so when 81 rolled back in from overhaul at a scene, he slid back into the room with the ‘Truck’s back’ announcement. A moment later, Matt was following Mouch, Otis, and Stella into the house when everyone yelled “SURPRISE!”

“What is this for?” Matt looked genuinely confused. “I though the duct tape thing was my welcome back.”  
“Nah, Captain.” Herrmann clapped him on the shoulder. “That was our welcome back. This is the rest of the family saying welcome back.”  
“Uncle Casey!” Kenny Herrmann pretty much careened into Matt. Sylvie had somehow missed that Herrmann’s kids called him ‘uncle Casey’ which made her have to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Annabelle, with a little more decorum suiting her greater years, nonetheless quickly joined her brother. “You gotta see the cake you got! It’s awesome!”

“It was too weird to have them call him _Matt_.” Herrmann filled her in as Matt followed the kids over to where the desserts were laid out. “And he babysat enough, had to call him something.”  
“I didn’t know he babysat for you.”  
“Been doing it kinda regular for the last few years. Think he still feels like he owes me and Cindy for all the times she watched Louie.” Herrmann shrugged. “He don’t understand family. No count kept. Still, if it means I get to take Cindy out without having to leave Lee Henry in charge, I’ll take it.”

“Casey!” Terrence Boden also ran over, and Sylvie felt herself tear up a little at how easily Matt swung the boy up into his arms. God, Matt needed to be a father. Not that she wanted to do that now, or you know, all that soon, but he deserved to have those be his kids gathered around him, not kids he borrowed from his friends.

“Did you guys bring me Portillo’s?” Matt asked the kids, who all excitedly confirmed it.  
“Momma says we hafta like you lots because without you, Dad would have rooms and rooms of homework.” Terrence nodded emphatically. “But I like you anyway because you built my new bed.”  
“I helped your Dad build it.” Matt corrected with a laugh. No one in the house (probably including Terrence) believed that Matt had not completely taken charge of any sort of construction project.  
“Can we have cake now?” Kenny asked.

“Nope. Apparently I’m the guest of honor, and sandwiches first. Then cake.” Matt told the boy. He looked around, clearly taking in how many people he had to greet. He handed Terrence to Chief, and leaned down a little to Annabelle. “Annabelle, can you make me a plate while I say ‘hi’ to all these grown-ups? That way we can eat and get to cake faster. I trust you to get me all the best stuff.”  
“I can do it.” Annabelle nodded, looking proud of the responsibility. No doubt, in a house full of boys, charge of food was a sacred trust. Matt moved around the room, talking to everyone and lit up with happiness, which made him even more attractive. He was always stupidly handsome, though he wasn’t very aware of it, but when he was happy it was just ten times more. He hugged Lily and Chloe, and Sylvie caught up to him just as he was talking to Trudy.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I didn’t expect anything like this. They didn’t throw me this big a party when I came back after I nearly died.”

“You nearly died?!” Chloe asked, looking shocked. “When was this?”  
“Uh, about six years ago. Building collapse, fractured skull, ended up with an epidural hematoma. I’m fine, but I guess emergency neurosurgery means it was pretty bad at the time.”  
“Yeah, that’s usually a hint it’s ‘bad’.” Kelly clapped him on the shoulder on his way past. “He just proved how hard-headed he is, Chloe, that’s all.”  
“We missed you. Our husbands complained a lot more.” Cindy told him.  
“I was gone ten weeks.” Matt pointed out.

“Yes, and now you’re back and the inexperienced incompetent child they had in your place is gone. I prefer you.” Trudy was typically blunt. “Though you still need a bit of seasoning yourself.”  
“I’m nearly forty, Trudy.” Matt chuckled.

“Huh. Like that’s old and wizened.” Trudy responded with a scoff. “At least I know you’re not going to get Randall killed. Dvorak was a moron. Stay here or I’ll have Intelligence hunt you down and drag you back.”  
“I have no plans to leave Truck 81, Sergeant.” Matt held up his hands in surrender. He moved on to hug Cindy tightly. He pulled back with that little-boy-grin that could get him just about anything he wanted, though he was thankfully oblivious to its power. “Forget the cake, Cindy, you brought me brownies, didn’t you?”  
“Would I leave you without brownies, Matt Casey?” Cindy asked, eyebrows raised. He just canted his head, that grin never changing, and she caved. “They’re the hot fudge brownies, but eat the sandwich first.”

“If you weren’t already married…” Matt teased, kissing Cindy’s cheek. Sylvie loudly mock-cleared her throat, and Matt reached to pull her into his side. “And if I wasn’t already in a wonderful relationship with the most beautiful girl-“  
“Don’t lay it on too thick, Matt.” Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“I’m not.” Matt assured. “But we better go eat, Annabelle will have my sandwich waiting by now and she’s not the most patient.”


	27. Who the F%^& is Medea Jones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: If you're sensitive (for any reason) to nonconsensual dissemination or publication of private images, yeah, this chapter is a skip for you I think. The good news is that it gets better from here, the last two chapters you should be able to read without issue. 
> 
> This was originally part of the previous chapter, but I split it off both for length and tone: it made Chapter 26 quite long, but it was also a jarring tonal shift once I'd written it all out.

“Hey, guys, anyone gets an email from somebody called Medea Jones, don’t open it or any of the attachments.” Otis called out to the room. He was staring at his laptop while he said it, leftovers from the earlier party at his elbow. It was getting late, and thankfully the number of calls had quieted down.

“You get one of those virus things?” Herrmann asked. “That ain’t the Molly’s computer, is it?”  
“No, it’s not the business computer.” Otis reassured. “And no, not a virus just ah, uh, prank email is all. Trust me, you don’t want to open it.”

“What the fuck?!” Capp had his phone, and Otis dropped his head.

“You opened it. I just told you not to open it.”  
“Yeah, but I was wondering why.”  
“What the fuck is that?” Cruz asked, looking over Capp’s shoulder. Sylvie, who’d been sitting across from Otis and also enjoying some leftover cake herself, moved to stand and go towards Capp to also see, but Otis grabbed her arm.

“You don’t…”

“That’s _Casey_!” Cruz half-shouted, shock and something maybe a bit like revulsion in his tone, and Sylvie knew. She knew what it was. She didn’t even have to look.

“Don’t _stare_ at it!” She cried, not even sure why she said it, except that she knew what it was and she knew Matt would be (understandably) humiliated but she couldn’t imagine really how he would feel. These were his guys, his family, and 51 had always been his safe place, she knew that, everyone knew that, that the job was Matt’s place where he felt comfortable and confident and no matter how messy his personal life, he always had the work. Through everything with his family, with Hallie, with Dawson, with the fire, with injuries and Voight and everything, he'd always had 51 as the place none of that mattered, just the work and he could do the work. To have something like this take that away, to invade his only safe space....

“Hey, Sylvie, calm down. It’s shut, okay?” Cruz was there, and maybe she’d spaced for a little longer than she thought. “No one else is going to open any emails with any attachments.”  
“You weren’t in any of them.” Capp tried to sound reassuring.

“That doesn’t make it better.” She protested. Then she reconsidered, “actually it does, because at least…we knew that those were ‘out there’. We just thought it was taken care of, a problem up at 29-“  
“Wait, those were taken at a firehouse?” Otis asked.

“There was a problem, with a guy up there, Matt said he knew about one of those, but the others showed up on a fake Facebook account a couple weeks ago. We reported it, it was taken down, after half of Fowlerton saw it because I was tagged in them, but the guy got suspended or something.”  
“Think he did this as like…revenge or something?” Herrmann asked.

“I never understood why some guy at 29 would do it to begin with, it doesn’t make sense. Matt didn’t do anything to hurt anyone.” Sylvie protested.   
“None of us were up at 29.” Otis pointed out.

“Otis-“ Sylvie spun, and he held up his hands.

“I’m saying, maybe this guy was lazy or dangerous or going off the res – Casey would’ve ridden his ass about that, just doing his job. No way Casey lets that slide just because he’s only up there temporarily. We slip up, we get chewed out, we do drills. Maybe this guy just…got pissed about Casey making him do his job right.” Otis finished his argument. She had to admit, that was actually a pretty likely possibility, and much nicer than she’d been worried Otis would say. He hadn’t said anything about her and Casey in weeks, but she also had not entirely forgotten what he’d said in the fall.

“Somebody has to tell Casey. And Chief.” Cruz pointed out.

“We got a bigger problem, boys.” Herrmann held up his phone, which had pinged with a text a few seconds earlier. “Cindy got the same email.”

“Did she open it?” Sylvie asked, unable to believe this was happening. Cindy was like a mix between a Mom and a big sister to Matt, a person he adored and admired and it would kill him to know she'd seen him like that. 

“She did – didn’t scroll past the first, uh…she figured out it wasn’t something she wanted. She doesn’t know who it was, no face. Just wanted me to know she got this email, thinks Lee Henry’s been into some websites again or something.”  
“God, don’t tell her.” Sylvie practically begged.

“Just told her I’ll take care of it. Have to tell her the rest later, make sure she doesn’t get after Lee Henry.” Herrmann admitted reluctantly. "She'll be cool, she'll understand. I promise."

“Who would even have Cindy’s email? I mean, all of us, you could get from the database right but Cindy?” Cruz asked.

“We gotta tell Casey.” Herrmann reminded. He looked kindly at Sylvie. “I’ll do it, no point in making you give him the bad news.”  
“No, no.” Sylvie disagreed. “Let me. He knows I know about…some of it. It might be easier. But we still have to talk to the Chief and report this to headquarters.” She sighed. “Herrmann, can you let the Chief know Matt and I need to see him in a few minutes. I’ll go tell Casey.”

“I’m gonna call Lily, make sure she doesn’t open anything she doesn’t know the sender – if this asshole got Cindy’s email, he might’ve gotten hers, or anyone else’s.” Otis nodded, and Sylvie left the common room as the guys all set about informing anyone they could think might be connected or get an email, telling them not to open them. She hoped they got to everyone in time. 

Matt’s reaction had been predictable enough. He’d been shocked, appalled, humiliated, angry, and then, he’d shoved it all down to talk to Chief about it. He was so good at that, it scared her sometimes, the way he could box things up. It wasn't that he didn't care, he cared more than most she knew that, he just was too proud to break in public, no matter what the issue was, but especially with something like this. Battered pride was about the only thing he had to fall back on. He'd gotten through the shift, though she noticed, and she knew Matt noticed, that no one was quite looking right at him. Then he’d been called to headquarters the next morning. She, Stella, Kelly, they all knew exactly what it was about. Matt had confided to her, late last night in the common room when neither of them could sleep, that this could kill his career. Anything that brought disrepute on the CFD was a problem, especially in an officer. She couldn’t think how anyone could justify punishing him for being a victim of something so hateful. All Matt had said was that because the sender of the email claimed to be a woman he’d brought to Firehouse 29 for sex (which made no sense, surely someone up there would have noticed a random girl?) and that was how she got the photos, it was probably going to be up to him to prove that she was lying. She reminded him that he’d already filed a report with the CFD about those same photos, so there was no way anyone could believe this random woman who was just an email address at this point, but the CFD he reminded her was not law enforcement and they didn’t really need to follow an ‘innocent until proven guilty’ rule. The union could (and Mouch promised would) wade into the fight on his behalf if necessary, but Matt was nervous, and she could tell. He’d been comforted a tiny, tiny bit that almost everyone they knew who had gotten the email had also been informed quickly not to open it, and hadn’t. Unfortunately, Donna actually knew a real person named Medea Jones, and had opened the email, and the attachments because she’d been _expecting_ pictures from her former college classmate. Sylvie was pretty sure that Matt was not going to be volunteering to babysit Terrence and see Donna for a little while, but Chief had been not cool about it really but not mad at Matt at least. She knew he was mortified. He was in a lot of ways an incredibly private man, and to have his privacy shredded like this was traumatic and humiliating. 

All three of them tried to play it cool all day while Matt was at his meeting, but no one was very believable at faking it. They were all incredibly nervous and upset. She could tell Kelly was particularly on edge. He’d been almost alright until Matt came out of the bedroom in his dress blues. This was not a casual meeting with HR, this was a meeting with someone (or someones) important. This was big. Kelly had been acting like they’d sent Matt off to the executioner alone ever since. It just made her and Stella more nervous. The longer Matt was gone, the worse their nerves got. Kelly’s cell phone rang about 5 pm. He jumped up like he’d taken an electrical shock or something, and quickly answered the call.

“Hey, Matt, what’s up?” Sylvie exchanged looks with Stella. If Kelly was calling him ‘Matt’ things were really bad. Really bad. Kelly only called him Matt when he was introducing him to people away from work or to a victim, or when he thought Casey was going to die or something.

“Shut up, Case.” Okay, so his disgruntled response told her Matt was in the mood to call him out on that. Relief hit her. If Matt was needling Kelly, it couldn’t be catastrophic.

“What? Yeah, man, of course, but where are you?”  
“Hell, I kind of expected you to be at a bar.” Kelly replied with a small laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s why you’re a captain. You gotta give us like twenty minutes this time of day, man. At least.”  
“Shut up, Case. We’ll be there soon as we can.” Kelly hung up, shaking his head, and muttering in what she presumed was supposed to be a mocking impersonation of Matt “ ‘lived here my whole life’ the little shit, doing him a favor, too.”  
“Uh, Kelly, you want to fill us in?” Stella prompted, as he started putting his shoes on.

“Yeah, come on, we’re gonna go pick up Casey.”  
“He drove to his meeting.” Sylvie pointed out.

“Says he’s too tired to drive, ‘specially in rush hour traffic.”  
“Did he say what the outcome of the meeting was?”  
“Nope. But he didn’t sound…he just sounded exhausted, so it must’ve gone alright for him.”  
“Good. _He_ is the victim in this. He did nothing wrong.” Sylvie bit out sharply.

They picked Matt up at headquarters. He was asleep while sitting in the lobby, a couple of the front desk staff keeping an obvious eye on him. Kelly gave the ladies a smile and a wave, as Sylvie gently shook Matt’s shoulder.

“Matt, baby, you ready to go home?”  
“Syl?” He came awake, mostly, but his voice had that sleepy softness to it that she loved so much.

“Let’s go, big guy.” Kelly helped haul Matt to his feet. Sylvie could’ve managed it, but Kelly handled Matt’s weight much more easily.

“Syl, can you take m’truck?” Matt asked. “Too tired to drive.”  
“Yeah, we can see that.” Stella remarked.

“Of course I’ll drive. Do you have the keys?”

“In my pocket.”  
“Can you give them to me?” Sylvie asked, exchanging a grin with Stella. Matt was so tired he might as well be stoned or drunk. It should probably worry her, but given that Matt was more likely to be wound up and unable to sleep at all if the meeting had gone poorly (hence he hadn’t slept at all on shift last night) his sleepiness now actually made her feel better instead of worse.

“You could get them.”

“I’m not reaching into your pocket in the lobby of headquarters, Matt Casey.” Sylvie replied, rolling her eyes. Kelly was chuckling, though. “I know which way you dress, and you’re tired to deliver on anything you might accidentally promise me.”  
“She’s got you there, Case.” Kelly was outright laughing now. “Let’s go, man, you can fill us in on how it went as we go.”  
They moved outside, Stella walking ahead, apparently intent on making sure there was no ice along the way as Matt moved semi-drunkenly between Sylvie and Kelly. She wasn’t very patient though, and a minute later asked over her shoulder,

“How’d it go, Captain?”  
“Can’t tell you most of it. Find out…house meeting I guess, later, next shift or the one after maybe.” Matt shrugged.

“You’re not in any trouble, are you?” Sylvie asked.

“No, no disciplinary actions. Got lotsa trouble coming, but not that kinda trouble.”  
“So what kind of trouble?”  
“Had to file a criminal complaint. Guess this is a crime, called ‘revenge porn’ according to the detectives. Got a whole investigation going and everything. Already have suspects and stuff, since the photos were taken at 29.” Matt sounded more awake, maybe it was the cold temperatures, or just getting up and moving. “Grissom had my back, though, Sev. Wasn’t sure he would, but he did. Heads’re gonna roll, just not mine. He had a whole big speech about how he can’t have this sort of shit happen in his department. But just wait until the entire CFD has to have harassment and bullying retraining – fuck, I hope my name doesn’t end up attached to that.”  
“Ah, Griss’ll have better sense than that.”  
“Hope so.” Matt replied as they reached his truck. Kelly was parked a little farther away in the parking lot. Matt practically fell into the passenger seat of the truck, as he handed the keys out to Sylvie. “Thanks for coming to pick me up. Coulda gotten a cab, didn’t want to leave my truck, though.”

“No problem. See you back at home, man. Stella and I are gonna stop and pick up dinner. You need to eat before you crash, man. What do you want?”  
“Chinese?”  
“Chinese it is. I’ll get your usual.”  
“Thanks, Sev.”  
“Uh, the number 4 for me.” Sylvie ordered quickly, as the small group parted. She was so damned grateful to have Matt, and apparently a Matt who wasn’t in any trouble, that she leaned over to kiss him. He kissed her back, and she had to resist the desire to slide across the seat to be closer to him. That could wait until later. She just needed to kiss him right now. It wasn’t heated, it wasn’t the sort of kiss to lead to anything, just affection and love and relief that he was okay. Or at least, he was going to be okay. They still had a lot to wade through with this, but she was certain that they, he, would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know the reference with Medea, that's okay. It should be explained in a planned sequel. it's not that essential, even if I don't get the sequel written.


	28. Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: discussion of nonconsensual dissemination of images as well as relatively minor sexual assault, definitely sexual harassment, in this chapter. No violence or reference to violence involved. Chapter 29 (next chapter) will be clear of such, so if this will bother you, please skip ahead.

The promised explanation to the house took three more shifts to actually happen. Everyone tried real hard to act as normally as possible around Casey, but it was going to take some time to “unsee” that, which she knew, and she knew Matt knew. She didn’t press him for details. He explained a little that night, in the bedroom, mostly just that the meeting had been to get his testimony essentially, not that he accused of anything. What he’d thought was poor organization at House 29 was becoming something bigger and dirtier and Grissom was hunting it out like a bloodhound. Matt wasn’t even told who the suspects were in his case, just that the department and CPD were working together with the Office of the Inspector General and state officials as well. While he seemed confident that there was a serious investigation going on, that didn’t seem to help his “turtling” as Kelly had called it. He was his normal self on calls, but he was not socializing with anyone. He barely emerged from his quarters for meals. He did have a lot of paperwork to deal with, Chief hadn’t been lying about having ‘saved’ some of it for him, but not enough to really explain his sudden disappearing act. Everyone knew he was self-conscious. No one seemed able to blame him. She also noticed, and she thought many other people did too, that he changed out away from the house, coming in to shift and leaving in his station uniform. She didn’t know who had told them (maybe Kelly) to do it, but she also noticed that they all cleared out quickly from the showers after that house fire last shift, so Matt could shower when everyone was very obviously out in the common room. If anyone felt offended at his lack of trust in them, no one said anything or gave any sign of it.

All in all, Matt was doing alright, though. He was coping with it, at least. Maybe because most people who received the email (at least, most people they knew about) had gotten notice not to look before they did so. A few, like Chloe, pointed out that she never opened any attachment from someone she didn’t know, and this was just good proof of why. As long as no one mentioned Donna Boden around him, he was pretty fine. She knew he was dealing with other stuff, though. He just wasn’t talking about the other stuff.

They were all surprised to walk into the morning briefing on a Saturday and find several members of the department brass there, waiting for them. Chief Grissom was there. Matt took a spot in the farthest corner of the briefing room. Sylvie took her usual spot at a table with Emily. She left Matt to Kelly, who stood next to him in clear solidarity.

“Everyone is here, so let’s get started.” Chief announced, then turned to Commissioner Grissom. “Commissioner Grissom has some information to share with us.”  
“Thank you, Chief Boden.” Grissom acknowledged. “I’ll get straight to the point. Captain Casey’s situation is still part of an investigation which the department is wrapping up over the next couple of days. Nonetheless, in order to respect as much as possible the privacy of Captain Casey, the department in agreement with the city and the state, has ordered that while the matter of the investigation and its results are public information, no names will be shared in any documentation. He will be referred to by generic information only. We expect everyone at this house to abide by that restriction and not to provide, confirm, or in any way indicate his identity to any entity or person other than an investigator from IAD or the city Office of the Inspector General.”

Nods and general sounds of agreement went around the room. No one was going to be sharing anything. Even if they hadn’t been ordered to keep quiet, no one wanted to make this any worse for Matt.

“Captain Casey was at House 29 officially to cover for Captain Polanshek’s injury. Less officially, I needed a competent officer in a house with high turnover and a high number of internal complaints. Besides his general competence, even the people I’ve talked to who _don’t like_ Captain Casey agree that he’s the type of officer to tell the complete and utter truth in a report, no matter what. He was aware of that secondary purpose to his work at House 29. He was not, and never has been, a ‘rat’.” Grissom pointed out firmly. “Neither my office, nor IAD, nor any other office, ever asked for or received anything from him except the usual reporting standards of a CFD captain. I want to make that completely clear.”  
“His reports have led to substantial reforms at House 29, including wholesale retraining on harassment, bullying, and sensitivity training, especially on second shift. They also led to restructuring of leadership at House 29. I want to make it clear again that these decisions were made based on the same reports he fills out for any incident, that there was nothing extraneous asked of him, just honest assessments about the actions and competence of his crew. I expected nothing less from a man of Captain Casey’s reputation, and received blunt, honest, and highly accurate reports.”

“What we did not expect was the secondary result of his presence at House 29. Leadership at 29 had permitted a culture of hazing and inappropriate behavior to develop and flourish. Photos were taken, some of them you may have seen, some of them you have not, without Captain Casey’s permission, and without his knowledge. He was not the only person in the house to have that happen to them.” Grissom paused for just a moment. “I will not share any personal details about his reports with you. I did want this house to be aware that as of the start of this shift, Battalion Chief Janet Gayan has been removed from her position and pending the results of her hearing, will be stripped of her rank and removed from the CFD. She was complicit in the dissemination of those photos both on social media and via email. Her removal will of course become common knowledge in the ranks soon enough. I expect this house to be absolutely silent on any role of Captain Casey in this situation. Chief Boden, I leave the rest of this in your capable hands.” Grissom left, leaving a somewhat stunned group in the room. Sylvie was just grateful no one turned to stare at Matt. Chief Boden moved to the center of the room, giving them a moment to process what they’d heard.

“I expect this house to do its utmost to keep Casey’s name out of anyone’s mouths in regards to this situation. The reason for Gayan’s removal will be public information. His name, and the names of any other victims of the situation at 29, will not be. It is no one’s business outside of this house. I understand that initially we would have been told nothing at all, but due to the email issue last week, some explanation was deemed necessary. Captain Casey may have to be absent from shift a few times during the coming months as part of the criminal investigations that are arising from the internal investigations. You will, all of you, keep your mouths _shut_.” Boden’s tone brooked no questions and no opposition. Everyone agreed, though, and this time, Herrmann did turn to face Matt.

“We got your back, Casey.” Matt just nodded in response.

“Now, on to today’s shift.” Boden started the actual daily briefing. Sylvie snuck a few looks at Matt. She wasn’t imagining how close Kelly was standing. Their shoulders were touching, and even with both of them facing Chief and paying attention to his words, it was obvious that it was the Matt-Kelly equivalent of an arm around his shoulders.

She waited until the next night to ask Matt anything else about his time up at 29. She thought maybe, with the investigation wrapping up and some of it, at least, out and public knowledge, he might be more willing to talk about what happened, what he’d reported, what he’d gone through up there, because she knew it wasn’t as cut-and-dried as those photos (though that was awful enough, that had happened at the end, it didn’t explain everything she’d noticed before that).

“Matt, you know you can tell me anything.” They were in bed, cuddling. She was trying to ignore the fact that they hadn’t had sex since before those photos were emailed out. He wasn’t quite acting normally even at home, barely stripping off even to shower. It was probably perfectly normal for him to be reluctant to be naked anywhere, but she felt awful about it.   
“It’s…I have a lot of baggage. I warned you, I told you, the aesthetics aren’t bad, but the structure is a mess.”  
“And I told you, I always liked fixer-uppers better anyway, they have more character.”

“I don’t _want_ to be comparing you to… or expecting you…to be…to other relationships.”

“But you can’t help doing it anyway, can you?” Sylvie wasn’t happy about it, but she’d figured it would happen. He wasn’t comparing like it was a competition, he was just expecting certain things from her based on conditioning from previous life experience. She understood it, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “No matter what, Matt, I am on your side. I am ‘Team Matt Casey’ always, 100 percent. So is Kelly, by the way.”  
“I know that. Intellectually, I know that. I just, it’s hard to trust. Sev, most of the time, he’s got so much going on I can’t add more to him. He’s already been more than generous letting me live here this long.”  
“Don’t make that a sacrifice for him. He likes having you here, Matt. He likes to know you’re not alone. Just like you did, after Shay died, you wanted to know and you wanted him to know, he wasn’t alone, right?”

“Shay was his ‘team’ – Andy and me, too, of course, but we had steady girls, Andy had a family, Shay was his…more than a sister. Shay was Shay.” Matt pulled her tighter to his chest. “I wish you could’ve met her, or that you could’ve come to the house even without…if Gabby had become a firefighter and you and Shay could’ve worked together. That would’ve been, yeah, dangerous for Chicago, but great for me. And Kelly.”  
“I wish I’d known her, and Darden. He’s always sounded like a great guy.”  
“He was, one of the best. He was like Mouch, though, content to be a guy on a truck for his whole career – he didn’t really understand why Severide and I wanted all the stress and responsibility of being an officer.” She felt Matt kiss the top of her head. “Please don’t…don’t take this personally. I love you. I trust you. I just have so much crap and it messes my head up sometimes.”

“We all have ‘crap’ we carry, Matt. All I need is for you to talk to me. I want to listen. I want to know what happened to you. I mean, about anything, not just what happened at 29.”  
“You met Chief Gayan a couple times. What did you think?”  
“I didn’t think much in the hospital room, except that it was weird she called you ‘Matthew’ which I don’t think anyone does. You never use it except on legal papers. At the gala, I don’t know, I just remember thinking she was trying to steal you away, and I didn’t like her. And her husband was sort of strange.”  
“Keen took that picture the first week I was up there. I wrote him up. It was a stupid juvenile bit of hazing that any decent officer would’ve stamped out years ago – it’s guaranteed to eventually result in a lawsuit. I swear, I watched him delete the picture from his phone, and I wrote him up, thought it was over.”  
“But it showed up again.”  
“I didn’t know that until that Facebook mess.” Matt sighed. “Keen wasn’t a problem after that. He’s a decent firefighter, but he needs to grow up past the age of 13. Any shift with a woman on it, I wouldn’t let him near.”  
“But, Chief Gayan runs his shift.”  
“You think she cares if he’s harassing people?” Matt scoffed. “You know how that photo got out? IAD told me. When I wrote him up, she called him into her office, made him give her his phone each shift, said he couldn’t be trusted.”  
“That’s…almost reasonable.”  
“She took the photo off his phone, he hadn’t actually deleted it, had some stupid ‘prank’ planned to make it the wallpaper on my phone or something, just my phone. Stupid, juvenile shit, but…she, she took it because she wanted it. You know who sent that email? Her husband. He set up the stupid Facebook thing, too.”  
“Wait, she shared that with her husband?”  
“Oh, I already knew they have an ‘open marriage’.” Matt sighed heavily. “The investigators said she had little cameras in the showers and locker-room. I wasn’t the only guy with pictures taken. I wasn’t even the only guy she approached about…over-time activities.”  
“She seriously propositioned you?” She popped up a little bit, angling so she could see his face.   
“Not even subtly.”

“She was trying to get you transferred permanently so she could, what, pressure you into having sex with her?”  
“Yeah, that’s a good summary.”

“Wow. That…I’m sorry, baby.” She kissed him softly, then settled back down against his chest. She was cozy, and kind of considered it her spot, on her side and curled into him, his left arm wrapped around her and her head on his chest above his heart.

“She always wanted to meet alone. It started with her hand on my arm, or my shoulder, weird but…some people are touchy. By the second week, hand on my knee started sliding up from there. I wrote it up. District chief said I was being too sensitive to her gentler, more sensitive, more feminine style of communication.”  
“I don’t think her hand on your thigh is more feminine at all. It’s just invasive.”

“My third week up there, I was in the middle of a shower – house fire, practically hoarders, there was so much crap burning in that house, it was pitch black and then we had to do overhaul, I think I had soot in places I didn’t know I had places, and that was with my gear on – she said she had a question about an incident report I’d written. Came into the showers, opened the curtain, and just asked me about this incident report like we were in the common room.”  
“She walked in on you in the shower?”  
“Was weird as hell, and humiliating, and got better: I answered her question, and she looked down, said ‘good to see you’re really a blond’, before she walked off.”  
“Oh my god, Matt, that is…why didn’t you say anything?”  
“I wrote it up.” Matt replied. “District chief said I was only complaining because she’s a woman, if it had been a male battalion chief, it would’ve just been fine. He couldn’t take action on a sexist complaint.”  
“Wait, he said you were being sexist by complaining that she commented on your pubic hair while walking into your shower?”  
“Two more times I wrote her up for things – she came into the locker-room while I was changing and insisted on talking while I changed out, and she slapped my ass at a call – both times, came back with the same response: if she was a man, I wouldn’t complain, so it was dead in the water.”  
“That makes no sense. You would totally complain if Chief did those things, not that he ever would.”  
“Actually, I have changed out with Boden right there.” Matt shrugged. “But it is _different_ when it’s a woman, and a woman who has propositioned me.”  
“She did that sort of stuff the whole time you were there?”  
“It was mostly comments, and her hands constantly on me, even in kind of innocuous ways. It’s not innocuous anymore once she says she wants to ride you until you pop like a champagne cork.”  
“Wow, that’s…brazen.”  
“I pointed out she was married. You know what she said? Her husband wanted to join.”  
“What?!”

“Yep. She wanted me to have sex with her _and_ her husband. All I could think about was how many weeks I had left until I was back at 51. My incident reports were all accurate, but I couldn’t, I didn’t know how to even lodge a complaint about…and what if I got the same response again? That I was too sensitive. That I was being sexist. That it wasn’t a big deal. That it was just ‘her way of trying to be personable.’ That it wasn’t personal, it was just her way in general.”  
“No one’s way is like that. If it is, they should be banned from working with humans.”  
“I didn’t know how you’d take it. We’d just started, really, and I didn’t want you to think…I’d never, but I didn’t want you to get upset.”  
“At her, oh, I’m upset. At you, why would I get upset?”  
“I don’t know. I must’ve flirted with her or something. I don’t know. Some sort of signal that I was okay with her walking in on my showers.”  
“She did that more than once?”  
“Twice more. Second time she just asked her questions and left. Third time, she actually…” Matt stopped, taking a deep breath. “That was just before Thanksgiving. She grabbed my ass. I didn’t take another shower at 29 after that.”

“Matt…”  
“I didn’t write her up again.” Matt pulled her tightly against him again. “Every shift it was something. Her hands wandered. The guys on my shift thought we were sleeping together, that that was why I’d come in for Polanshek. I just spent as much time as I could in my quarters, door shut. I didn’t know what else to do.”  
“So you think she escalated when you were getting ready to leave because she hadn’t gotten her way?”  
“No, I think, well the investigators think, it was meeting you. Who I introduced as my girlfriend. It seems like the Facebook thing was intended to get you to dump me. They didn’t count on my aversion to social media being a giveaway to you that it wasn’t me at all.”

“You telling me that if you were single, you would have-“  
“Yeah.” His answer was so blatantly sarcastic, she had to chuckle.   
“And the email?”  
“Pure spite. Pretending to be a girl I’d slept with in the house just to make me look bad - it wasn't even believable, it was stupid and petty.” Sylvie thought cruel was a better word to describe it, but she also thought that Janet Gayan and her husband were probably awful, cruel, miserable, vicious human beings. They had to be.   
“You know she assaulted you, Matt, don’t you? She put her hands on you for sexual gratification against your will. That’s sexual assault. Are they charging her with that?”  
“Her husband, Sylvie, is Terry Anderson. He’s a major political donor and ridiculously wealthy. No, no one is charging her, or her husband with anything like sexual assault. They’ll probably find a way to plea down the revenge porn thing, but there’ll be charges of some sort for sure, I’m told. Plus she loses her job, so she can’t cultivate that…situation again.”  
“So what happened to you matters less than the fact that he’s rich and influential. Sometimes, I hate this whole world.”  
“I’m okay, Sylvie. I just need to adjust to being back at 51. I’m safe there, I know that. It’s just gonna take me some time to get used to working in a safe place again.”

“Whatever you need. Just know that I love you, and I’m here. For cuddles, or listening, or whatever you need.”

She took his tightened arms as acknowledgement. She had wanted to know what he’d gone through, and she was glad he finally opened up, even if she knew he had simplified and probably taken some of the worst edges off, because that’s just who Matt Casey was – he wouldn’t want her to feel bad or worry about him. He always had to be the strong one, the one that kept it together. He was so controlled so much of the time. God, how much it must have scared him, hurt him, to have felt out of control of his own…his own body in some ways, up there. Sylvie was not naturally a particularly violent or aggressive person, but oh, given the chance she would hurt anyone who hurt him. Sometimes, Matt wouldn’t defend himself because, well maybe because Kelly had been right and Matt just didn’t think he was worth defending. She thought differently. He was one of the best men, best people, she’d ever met and if she wasn’t capable of hurting whoever hurt Matt, then she’d just call Kelly, and Stella, and Herrmann, and Chief, and whoever she needed to, right up to Sergeant Voight if she had to (though Matt would _really_ hate that). He was worth at least a thousand people like Janet Gayan and her awful rich ‘important’ husband. But for now, she was just going to be happy that he was back at 51, and here with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter left. I've started a sequel, but I have no idea how it's going to come together. I'm struggling to write at the moment for some reason - I have the ideas, the words just aren't coming together readily. I don't want to come across as a beggar or like I'll only write if I get more reviews (I usually write to exercise/exorcise [depending on the day] my own demons), but I will say that reviews seem to help inspire the muses. Maybe I'm just tired. I wrote something like 80,000 words in March. Either way, I appreciate so much those of you who've left comments and kudos - sincerely, thank you, it's been a pretty good experience writing for an audience again.


	29. A Very Very Very Fine House

At the end of January, Matt and Kelly have some sort of falling out. No one could tell what it’s about, nothing to do with a call, and neither one of them is really talking. That’s typical for them, though. Sylvie is completely frustrated by it, and so is Stella. It came out of nowhere, like they’d been talking at Molly’s and then – bam – they were fighting. Fighting implied speaking to one another. So no, they weren’t fighting. They were just being pre-teen girls and not speaking to one another. No one at 51 was going to wade into that mine-laden field between them. In further typical frustrating form, the next night after shift, they were back at Molly’s, talked briefly, and were then the best of friends again. Sylvie knew she would never understand men, especially not those two men. But, at least the loft wouldn’t be tense anymore.

Matt took her out to breakfast the morning after the next shift. She knew there was something he wanted to talk about. She just didn’t know what it was. The only thing she was completely confident it was not was a break-up. Anything else, well, sometimes with Matt, he played things so close to the chest it was hard to predict. When he took her to her favorite little French bakery place for breakfast, she knew it was something big. Matt didn’t actually love the food here (he wouldn’t admit it, but she suspected he agreed with Kelly that the portions were too small – European-sized portions did not agree with the firefighters she knew) so this was clearly for her. He was maybe trying to butter her up for something. They chatted idly and amiably through the meal, but then Matt started to look nervous.

“Matt, would you just spit it out? You must have something important to tell me – you’re nervous, and you brought me here for my favorite crepes, and you told me to wear heavy shoes which…it’s winter in Chicago, Matt, I was going to wear boots anyway. So just tell me whatever it is.”

“I guess, first, I want to thank you.”  
“Thank me for what?”  
“For letting me deal with this, process things, just...take care of things my way, even when I know you think I’m doing it wrong.”  
“Not wrong just frustrating, because I want you to share things with me.”  
“I know, and I’m trying, I just, I’m not used to someone who listens and doesn’t tell me what to do.” Matt admitted with a small shrug. “I know you’re not Gabby. I got so used to every time I went to her with anything, she either went ‘Gabby Dawson’ on it and handled it her way, regardless of what I wanted or needed or felt, or she told me I was reacting wrong, that my feelings didn’t matter or were invalid. I know she loved me as best she could but I don’t,” Matt paused, clearly gathering his thoughts again. “One of the many things I love about you is that you let me do things my way, even when it makes you nuts. You don’t try to get me to be what you want. You take me as I am. I appreciate that, truly, and thank you for that.”  
“Matt, I don’t want you to be anything other than the man you are. So that’s easy. You don’t need to thank me for _loving_ you.”  
“Feels like maybe I do. I know it’s not as easy as you make it look.” Matt smiled broadly at her then, and kept talking, which cut off her immediate rebuttal to his stupid idea that he wasn’t easy to love. “I want to show you something. I mean, I also hope you’re not going to be really pissed at me for this. I had to jump on this, so I did. It’s maybe hypocritical given how much I hate big emotional decisions without my input, but anyway, uh, I guess I can tell you and then show you.”

“Matt, you’re rambling.”  
“Right.” He took a deep breath, put a hopeful smile on his face, and met her eyes firmly. “I bought a house.”

“You…when did you buy a house?”  
“I closed on it yesterday, that’s what I had to duck out of shift to do.”  
“You bought a house. Without even mentioning it to me.” It was his money, so that was his right, but the fact he didn’t say anything at all bothered her.  
“See, that’s the reaction I was afraid of.” Matt sighed, and visibly deflated. “Are you going to let me explain or should I stop talking and just let you get to the being pissed at me part?”  
“No, I’d like an explanation.” Her voice was a little sharper than she intended.

“The realtor called me, said he had a great place he wanted to show me, so I took the meeting, thinking I was just doing a first look, then I’d talk to you. Just information gathering. I know I’m not really allowed to do that without you, I’m sorry,”  
“Matt, hold on.” She stopped him, because that just couldn’t stand. “Matt, you’re _allowed_ to do what you want – I’m your girlfriend, not a prison warden. You don’t need my permission to take a meeting. Or even to buy a house. We’re not married, it’s not my money, it’s your risk, your decision-“  
“No, it should’ve been ours, but trust me, when you see it, you’ll get it. The meeting was that morning, the morning of the Facebook mess. I had to make an offer right away, the price was too good and the location is…kind of perfect. I didn’t want to lose it. So I had the financing already arranged, you knew that,” she did already know he’d gotten his loan approved, had the financing to buy a house set up, just waiting for him to make an offer somewhere, “and the seller was motivated and I waived any repairs from the inspection – I can do the work myself or I’d rather hire the guys I know do good work anyway – and it closed really quickly. I was about to call you, after I made the initial offer, but then your mom called and it got shoved aside. So I’d like to take you over to my new house, if you are…ready to check it out?”  
“Is this why you and Kelly were arguing?”  
“He got a little pissed that I did it without telling him. Once I told him how long I think it’s gonna take me to actually move out, he calmed down.” Matt shrugged. “I think he wants, needs, some time to get used to the idea.”  
“Well, let’s go see it.” She paused, for a moment, a smile spreading across her face as she realized something. “You bought a total fixer-upper didn’t you?”  
“Would anything else be fitting for me and you?”

She played along with his idea to blindfold her on the way to the new house. She also threatened him with getting carsick if she was stuck like that very long. She knew Chicago pretty well, but not well enough to even pretend that she could follow turns and distances with her eyes covered. Still, it made him happy and excited, and she loved how into this he was getting. They must be getting close, he was going quite slow, she could tell.

“Give me a sec, I’m gonna park in the garage the street out front was pretty full. You can take the blindfold off, though it’s not the best view of the new place.” Matt admitted, and she slipped the blindfold off and opened her eyes as he eased his truck into the garage. “The garage is going to be a bit tight with your car and my truck, but they’ll both fit. It needs a new roof and new siding, too – and a new door, I think, but that can wait. With two cars, you’ll have to go around – your car being here will mean this door won’t be able to open.” Matt pointed out, as he led her through the garage which was just a basic garage, out into the backyard. She looked around, seeing immediately what he’d liked about it. Well, one of the things, he’d obviously liked lots of things about the house.

“It’s a good size for…we must still be pretty close in.”  
“We’re in Bucktown.”  
“You got a house, a complete detached single-family three-story house, with a yard, in _Bucktown?_ Did you sell some organs on the black market?” She asked, looking at the house itself. It was brick, and from the back three full floors, though given the slightly sunken backyard, probably two-and-a-half in the front.

“I told you I had to jump on it. You’ll see the inside, see why I got a good price.”  
“How much _did_ you pay for this?”  
“Let’s save that discussion for a time when you’ve been out with Foster.”  
“Uh-huh. That bad, huh?”  
“No, just not what I want you to worry about. Let me worry about the money, okay? Just think about what this yard can look like once it’s had some work put into it.”

“It’s kind of plain, but it’s not overgrown or…well, we need to seed some grass in some spots, and add some flowers or something. Maybe there are some, it _is_ winter.” She allowed. She followed him towards the house. He turned to her, looking like a kid at Christmas, so excited to show her what he’d gotten…them? It seemed like he wanted this to be a ‘them’ project, not just a ‘him’ project.

“Syl, you want to start with the apartment or the main house? The ground floor is a stand-alone one-bedroom one-bath apartment – no renter in it currently, and I think we can make it part of the house easily enough, it’s not like I was planning to rent it out.”  
“Wouldn’t that help pay the mortgage, though?”  
“Babe, didn’t I just say to let me worry about the money?”  
“I know, but Matt, Bucktown is really expensive, and-“  
“I make enough. We can talk money later, if you really want, but for now, let’s talk fixer-upper okay?”  
“I can do that.” She nodded, and forced herself to pretend this was like a TV show, make-believe money, and all she had to do was dream up the renovations. That was clearly what he wanted and she was enjoying his excitement so if he wanted to dream for today, she was going to dream big. He unlocked the ground floor door, and ushered her inside. She looked around. It wasn’t bad, it was just very dated. They were in a small kitchen area, which looked like it had last been updated about 1990. Matt gave her a quick tour, it was a only about 700 square feet, but the bathroom wasn’t too bad, it needed some cosmetic updates, and the whole place could use new flooring and fresh paint, but there was a nice-sized living area, a bedroom big enough for a couple to share (though the closet was a bit small), and then a tiny laundry closet under the stairs to go up to the rest of the house. There was also a blocked off area he said was the utility area – water heater, furnace, fun stuff like that. The stairs were currently walled off so there was no access inside to the upper floors.

“I can re-open this up, check the stairs for soundness of course, but it leads up to the kitchen on the first floor. Then this is all part of the main house again, but I was thinking, if you like the idea, of keeping this laid out like this. It has its own entrance to both the front and the back.”  
“I thought you didn’t want to rent it.”  
“I don’t, but it would make a pretty great guest suite, don’t you think? Even if your parents come to stay for a week, or longer, they’d be comfortable here.” Matt shrugged. “I’ll re-do the bathroom to just have a shower, instead of the bath/shower combo. It’s also a great place for any of our friends to crash if they need a place. As my situation proved, you never know when you might need to help someone out.”  
“That is both a great idea, and incredibly sweet. I love it.” She really did. She loved the idea of him planning for her parents to visit ‘his’ house for long periods of time. She loved what it was telling her about where he was thinking they were going with this. This was Matt Casey planning a life, a long-term life, with her, and if this place had any furniture in it whatsoever, she would jump him right here and right now. Instead, she made do with kissing his face off. Matt backed her into a wall, and pinned her there, and she wasn’t about to complain. His hands were under her thighs, and she followed his cue and wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing their bodies even closer together. Matt finally pulled back, his hair mussed by her hands, and looking like he was just a little bit wrecked.  
“The things you make me think about doing, Sylvie Brett.” He shook his head and chuckled.

“What sort of things?” She asked with a teasing smile.

“It’s been a lot of years since I had sex on a bare floor, but if this one wasn’t this dusty, I’d take you right here and now.” He told her, using the leverage available by having her still wrapped around him and pinned to the wall to thrust up against her. She could feel he was definitely interested, and that just made her body react in all sorts of delicious ways.

“The dust might be worth it.”  
“Maybe, but I didn’t pack condoms to come look at the new house.” Matt confessed, looking a little chagrined.

“Well, next time we come over, bring something to christen the place.” She didn’t tell him that she had made a ‘big emotional decision’ without him, that in a little while he could ditch the condoms in general, she’d leave that for another time.

“Maybe not the very next time.” Matt hedged. “But at some point, I will definitely take you up on that christening.”

“Okay, so this is the guest suite. Show me the rest of the house.”  
They had to go back outside, then up the stairs of the back porch to get inside. Matt assured her that he was going to redesign and rebuild the back porch, which was structurally sound but far from brand new, just like the rest of the house. The house itself, he told her, was built in the 1890s. He looked a little apprehensive as he unlocked the back door, and let her go into the house first.

“Uh, wow.” This was definitely going to be a lot of work. “Matt, this is…baby, this is a total gut job.” The kitchen was awful. It was like being thrown back to 1972 except with nearly fifty years of wear, and the linoleum was in terrible condition, the cabinets were just ugly, and the harvest gold laminate counters were hideous. The appliances were missing, and there was no sink either. She took another minute to look around though. “The space is nice, though, and when it’s not a gray winter day, this will be great natural light, and you’ve got a pretty nice-sized eat-in area here, too. The light fixtures all needed to be replaced.”  
“I’m gonna have the whole place rewired, new plumbing, new HVAC, the works.” Matt informed her evenly. “There’s nowhere near enough outlets for 21st century lifestyles.”

“Is this a bathroom?” She pointed at a door next to the kitchen, as they moved into the living room.  
“Yep, just a half bath on this floor.” Matt nodded. “Don’t bother looking – it’s about 1972, too – and the toilet has been removed. The seller wanted to start a remodel, he got it real cheap off the city a few years ago, but he hasn’t been able to get the money together to flip it.”  
“Please tell me you are ripping every bit of flooring out of this house.”  
“You don’t like near-shag carpet in the living room?”  
“No, and it’s poop brown, Matt! God knows what is in it and staining it that we just can’t see. You are having a massive demo-day with this place.”  
“Pretty sure I know a volunteer crew that likes to break stuff.” Matt laughed.

“But this is a really great size living room, and they put in a big picture window to let in lots of light.” Sylvie had to admit that much.  
“I’m replacing everything – even the drywall. New windows throughout, too.”  
“Those look pretty new.” Sylvie pointed out.

“They are – but they’re the wrong windows for Chicago winters. Step over to it, hold your hand up about a foot from the glass. What do you feel?”  
“Wow, that’s cold. But windows are always-“  
“Yeah, not like that. I’m guessing the last owner wasn’t a contractor, with money issues, he tried to start a reno and got what was cheap and would keep the wet out. Plus, I think the window is the wrong look.”  
“You don’t like the style of it.”  
“Not for this house. It’s too mid-century for a late Victorian house. I was thinking to split it back up into two windows, the original configuration probably for the house.”  
“Hmmm…show me the plans. That could definitely work.” She stopped. “Oh, Matt, this is your house, you should do what you want.”  
“No, Sylvie, I bought it but…I want you to be involved with this. On every level. Okay?”  
“You know I can’t resist a good renovation.” She was telling the truth, but she was also happy to know he was seeing this as _their_ house, not his house.  
“I do indeed.”

He took her upstairs then, and showed her the three bedrooms and two bathrooms up there. The two front bedrooms were tiny, and the master was never going to fit a king-sized bed or anything, but it was definitely big enough for them to share, and she might not love the closet size but with good organization they could make it work. The master bath was missing entirely, halfway to renovated she guessed, but the space was nice, they could do a lot with it. Matt said he figured it used to be a small fourth bedroom. The hall bath actually had fixtures in it, but they were olive green, in fact, the whole bathroom was pretty much olive green. He hadn’t been lying when he said it was going to be a lot of work. She loved the idea of conquering it together, though. And the bedrooms all had great windows – Matt was going to be replacing all of them, he said, for the same reasons as downstairs – he wanted to reconfigure the street-facing smaller bedrooms to better match the origins of the house and match the first floor window pattern, and he wanted to put a Juliet balcony on the master instead of the large porch there now, and replace the sliding door with something more energy efficient. She knew she’d be having pleasant dreams tonight of a future in this house, the way she reimagined it – and if those dreams included Matt, and at least a couple little baby Caseys, well, that’s because that’s what she wanted. She didn’t really think Matt would object, but she wasn’t going to tell him that just yet. She didn’t want him to feel rushed into anything, not after his marriage with Gabby imploded the way it did. Still, if he had bought a house, and wanted her to help him renovate it, he had to be thinking that same direction, didn’t he?

It was nearly 4 o’clock in the afternoon when she and Matt stopped by Molly’s. She was trying not to laugh as they walked in the door. Technically, Molly’s didn’t open until 6 pm except for special events – while they had a kitchen, they didn’t really serve food unless it was catered in, so there was no reason to be open before ‘drinking hours’ really began. She’d texted Stella, though, and warned her that she and Matt had invited everyone from House 51 for an early drink. They were expecting most of the house by 4. As they came inside, Stella already had her eyebrows raised, clearly expecting an early tip on the big announcement.

“I’d like a glass of rose.” Sylvie said instead.

“My usual draft.” Matt also ordered a drink quickly. “Both on my tab.”  
“Matt.” Sylvie shot him a look. He could let her pay for something by this point in their relationship.

“So, what’s the big announcement?” Stella pressed.

“You’ll find out.” Matt replied, accepting the beer she slid across the bar.

“Oh, come on, you’re opening us early, you can’t give me the news early too?”  
“Nope.” Sylvie grinned broadly. Matt’s big surprise at the house, the biggest surprise, had made her laugh and literally jump up and down and she wanted everyone else’s reactions to be genuine as well, no time to think up an ‘acceptable’ response.

“I don’t see a diamond.” Stella commented after she’d delivered their drinks. Matt nearly did a spit-take. Sylvie had a second to panic that he had actually intended to ask her, tonight, in front of all their friends, but then reasoned he would never do that. He wasn’t usually one for a big production with an audience. Oh, he’d make a proposal ‘big’ if he thought she wanted that (she didn’t) but he’d know that she would want that moment to be something for them, not for spectators.

“Hey, Casey, Brett, what’s the big news?” Herrmann appeared from the back, carrying a crate of clean glasses.

“Well, it’s not a diamond ring.” Stella remarked.

“Give it about ten, fifteen minutes for everyone else to get here. You’ll find out soon enough.” Matt replied. People started filtering in quickly. Most announcements were made on-shift if they wanted to talk to the whole house, so being called to Molly’s piqued interest. Matt didn’t make them wait too long.

“So, I wanted to thank everyone for all the support last year, after the fire, and with everything that’s happened since then.” Matt started, then paused for a second. “My claim was officially settled just before Christmas, and yesterday, I closed on a new house. I wanted to invite you all to something of a house warming.”  
“Uh, Captain, ain’t a house warming supposed to be held in the house?” Herrmann asked.  
“That’s the thing, it’s kind of a fixer-upper. Sylvie and I are going to be working on it for a while and we’re gonna need some help. Demo crews especially this weekend.”  
“Count me in.” Herrmann volunteered. A chorus of ‘me toos’ went around the room. Figured. Demo day was the fun day, they got to tear stuff out and break stuff. Sylvie also noticed that not one person had missed that ‘Sylvie and I’, and she less than discretely switched her wine glass to her left hand so no one would start asking that particular question just yet.

“So, I’m still gonna be at Severide’s for a few more months, sorry, Kidd.” Matt laughed, and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Ain’t my idea to kick you out, don’t go blaming me!”

“But first, I wanna show you guys my new place.”  
“Uh, we all just got drinks, Casey.” Cruz pointed out.

“Bring ‘em with.” Matt was nearly outright laughing now, as he took her hand and went out the rarely-used side door of Molly’s. Confusion obvious, and muttering loudly among themselves, the group from 51 followed them outside. It was getting towards sunset, but it was still easily light enough to see from here, if you knew what you were looking for.

“Okay, Case, what’s going on?” Kelly asked.

“Well, Herrmann, I sure hope you’re ready for demo crews to end up at Molly’s every day.” Matt was grinning, and pointed just across the street and past the alley. “That’s my new house.”  
“Wait, you bought _that_ house?” Herrmann asked, looking shocked. Everyone looked surprised. There wasn’t even a for sale sign in the front yard, she and Matt had taken it down earlier this afternoon.

“Well, I figured I couldn’t beat the neighbors.”  
“That is fantastic!” Herrmann practically exploded. “Hell, you can toss a football from your front door to Molly’s!”

“Damn, how did you afford Bucktown?” Otis asked, his face as surprised as everyone else’s.

“It needs a lot of work, and I had a lot of equity in the old place, after I flipped the place I had before that. If I do the work myself, most of it anyway, I can afford the major renovations needed. But it’s a great neighborhood and if the neighboring bar gets too loud, I know who to call.”

“Call – yeah right, come join the party.” Herrmann shot back.

“You know your house just became the official crash pad.” Capp remarked with a broad grin.  
“Not for a while yet – most of the house doesn’t even have plumbing fixtures in it. But, I can always count on a cold beer after all that work.”

“Well, alright, let’s go back in and celebrate – welcome Casey to the neighborhood right!” Herrmann called, and Sylvie waited back just a minute with Matt. She really did love that the house was this close to Molly’s. It was like having Molly’s almost as an extension of their home, except that they could leave and lock the door when they wanted some separation, too. Plus, as he pointed out, there were great parks in the neighborhood, good schools (yes, he’d been thinking about schools, clearly the ‘baby Caseys’ weren’t far from his mind either), and it wasn’t that far to work either. She leaned up to kiss him fondly, but he deepened the kiss, and she was so distracted by his tongue in her mouth and the feel of him beneath her hands and his hands on her, that she was completely unprepared for Cruz to pop his head back out the door.

“Hey, you two, cut it out – you can’t do that on the street in Chicago, what do you think this is, Mardi Gras?! Get inside, we’re celebrating!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that's it. Around 85,000 words written in a single month. It probably could've used some polishing, but I'm still pleased with it by and large. Keep the comments coming - I'm working on a general outline of the sequel. It will be a few days before I get it really started, though. My job is going virtual, so we're doing a lot of meetings, etc., right now. My schedule is a bit of a mess. In an ideal world, sometime next week I'll be able to get the first chapter up. I hope you've all enjoyed the journey thus far and if it's helped you (as it has me) even just a little bit to get through our current global troubles, I'm humbled and honored to have contributed in some tiny way to at least a few people.
> 
> Edited to Add: The sequel may be delayed a bit. I got word at 5 am this morning that my childhood best friend's father is in the ICU, on a ventilator, and not expected to live through the next 48 hours. I'm unable to go home to Chicago to be with her, so I'm spending a lot of time on video chat with her. She can't even be in the ICU with him. So...yeah, not a lot of time to be writing. Be safe, guys, as safe as you can.


End file.
